Hel to Pay
by apchick10
Summary: Sequel to "Psych the Avengers Out". Takes place seven months after the battle on the Bifrost. Jaycee Strong has settled into a new life as a college student, working with Jane Foster and Erik Selvig, occasionally moonlighting on missions with Agent Barton when she gets restless. But she is still technically heir to a throne and there is the matter of a missing trickster god...
1. In the Dark of the Night

When she drags herself through the door that night, the only thing on her mind is sleep.

No matter how much she wants to drag her gear on the ground, she does her best to tiptoe through the hallways. Her bag scrapes against the wall and she shushes it and in so turning, her backpack clicks into the other wall the buckles clatter on the plaster. She curses quietly and breathes deeply, trying to stay quiet. Hah. She's a bull in a china shop; clumsy is her middle name.

When she finally makes it to her room without waking any of the other people in their condo, she drops her bags gratefully onto the ground, sighing in contentment as the straps fall off her shoulder and the blood returns to her arms. She really needs to stop this crazy schedule of six am to ten pm out of the house. It means she has to take all her belongings with her and lug them around all day. It's such a different and surreal experience for her after having literally nothing of her own for twenty two years of her life.

Shuddering with sore muscles, she pulls her tight long sleeved shirt over her head, wincing as her aching arms twitch. She kicks off her running shoes and strips out of the socks. When she's finally de-layered enough to feel comfortable, she wanders out into the hall on bare feet.

In the kitchen she barely suppresses a groan when she opens the fridge. There is no such thing as leftovers when you live with Thor. He doesn't even leave anything leftover, not a scarp. You'd think that a god that muscly wouldn't want the carbs and go for the protein but Thor seems to be addicted to anything that has high fructose corn syrup in the label. She pounds her head gently on the fridge door in frustration and then heads to the pantry. She really doesn't want to cook at this hour, with the microwave clock digits reading eleven twenty seven, so she spends only half a frustrated moment in front of the bare pantry before sighing and heading for bed.

As she turns to leave the kitchen something prickles on the back of her neck like a premonition. She turns slowly, expanding her mind.

She might not be an Avenger right now, but Jaycee Strong knows how to use her powers. Over these past seven months she's been practicing and telepathy and telekinesis are always at her fingertips now.

When she opens up her mind, she doesn't feel another consciousness around her. Just a chill? She doubts it. Twenty two years of high adrenaline fighting for your life teaches you to trust your instincts. Something is off but she can't tell what. It might not even be here, might be something else. She's gotten better at picking up emotions over the weeks since the battle on the Bifrost and she can sense something but can't place it. It doesn't feel malevolent or threatening. Maybe she's just picking up on the dream waves from upstairs; after all she does live with crazy scientists, a god from Asgard and a sassy undergrad intern.

She can't dismiss it entirely but she lets it go for now. Exhaustion in rising in her in waves and when she's tired, she can't think as well. That's from lots of experience. Well, bed it is then. She killed a three hour CrossFit training workout combo today and she's feeling pretty good endorphin wise but her body is going to rebel tomorrow morning if she doesn't rest.

With one last furtive look at the shadows in the kitchen, Jay goes to bed.

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She can't sleep.

She rolls over onto her other side but her mind is working a thousand thoughts a second and her legs feel twitchy. Normally when this happens she tries to clear her mind but she finished her workout so late tonight that she's buzzing on a runner's high. That and she got close to working out an astrophysics equation today and the numbers have been swimming in her head since class this morning. Ugh, this sucks. She actually really does want to sleep tonight.

Reluctantly Jay gets out of bed. First she does some yoga sequences to try and lengthen her muscles and calm her breathing. When that doesn't work she contemplates going on a quick nighttime run but realizes that will probably just exacerbate the situation. Grrrrrrr, she thinks and wishes she didn't have such an overactive imagination because if she's being honest, she's still up because even when she falls asleep, nightmares plague her, running on the backs of her eyelids like film.

It's bad enough that voices fill her head all day long but now they also haunt her at night. She has too many memories now, when all she wanted when she was little was the recollection of her parents and life. Now she has so many memories that she hasn't even stumbled upon them all yet. They are painful; she didn't live an easy life. That and she has memories that aren't her own.

She finds herself wandering in Jane's lab, bare feet cold on the tiles. She decides that if she can't sleep, then she might as well get some work done. She pulls up a chair to her usual desk and pulls her jacket from the back of the seat and wraps herself in it, rubbing her toes against the top of her other foot to try and warm up a bit. She plops down into the chair and clicks the desk lamp on, a small circle of yellow light illuminating her messy desk. Maybe she should use her extra energy to actually try to organize it. Now there's a thought. But she does know where everything is right now and she'll forget if she tries to order this chaos. Go figure.

She pulls out a book on nebula formation from under her scribbled notes and doodles. Jay slumps to her elbows and rests her chin in her hand as the scratches out notes about stardust.

A crash and rattle of metal splits the silence and Jay is up and out of her chair, going for the knife she keeps in her waistband before the noise has settled. Her book crashes to the ground in a flurry of pages and the spine snaps. Adrenaline floods her system and her eyes expand to allow the maximum amount of light in. She tilts the desk lamp down so her eyes adjust better to the gloom. She glances quickly at the clock on the wall. Two thirty one am. No one with honorable purposes is making such a racket at this hour.

She hears footsteps shuffling on the slick floor and the shadow of someone hunched over fills the doorway.

The galloping thunder of her heart drowns her ears. She wants to try and reach out her mind but she's so terrified right now that this is someone to take her away again that she momentarily shuts down. Please, no, anything but that. The terror is primal and instinctive and although she can calm herself marginally, it still presses against her other rational thoughts.

The figure takes a stuttering step forward and she can tell it's a man. She fingers curls around the hilt of her knife and she steps backwards, out of the lamplight. She sees a glint from the eyes of the person in front of her, catlike in the gloom. A garbled, fluid-filled plea comes from the figure and he suddenly collapses in front of her, crashing face down into the light.

The sight that confronts her is not what she expected but she doesn't relax her defensive stance. She's trained enough with the Hawk lately that she already has three plans in her mind that run through different scenarios. But her dagger tip lowers slightly.

A bleeding man with tangled black hair and ragged, shredded clothes is sprawled facedown at her feet, giving jerky spasmodic movements that clearly say he's in pain. She doesn't release her hold on her knife for several moments. Then she kneels down at his side and feels his pulse, ready to snatch back her hand in case this is a trap. The beat of his heart is sluggish and he seems to be trying to move the weight away from his ribs. She knows that she's too trusting but she can't justify sitting here watching a man in agony gasp at her feet. Gently she grasps his shoulders and rolls him over onto his back.

Without realizing what she's doing, she moves his arms to comfortable positions and then looks at him, his face covered by his dark, unruly hair. Her fingers drift to his jawline and she carefully brushes the hair from his face.

Her gasps when she sees his face is accompanied by a fast scurry backwards, a hand over her mouth.

Loki is lying on the ground in agony, a tight black thread binding his lips together, blood crusted all over his lower face and jaw. His eyes turn towards hers and weakly he tries to say something as she looks at him in shock and horror. But she can't understand and then a familiar voice, hurt and pleading sears into her mind with that vivid intensity she remembers.

 _Jaycee, please…. Jaycee…please….._


	2. Stitches

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, looking at each other with an intensity that sears her. Then Loki's eyes roll back into his head and he passes out cold.

Jay still doesn't move. She never thought she'd be the kind of girl who froze like this but in her defense; this is not really a situation she could have ever imagined. The shock has her momentarily paralyzed as memories assault her, memories of waking in the Avengers Tower, thinking she should be dead and wondering why Thor was sitting next to her with the saddest expression on his face that she had ever seen.

Loki had made some terrible bargain with Hel, Queen of the Dead, and because of it Jay was alive. She is in his debt no matter what he exchanged for her life. That thought jars her out of her stupor.

Jay slides herself across the floor towards Loki and very gently takes his pulse. His heartbeat is sluggish and erratic but it's there. He doesn't move at her touch so he really must be unconscious. She'd half expected him to be playing dead to trick her. She almost feels ashamed of that thought but knows that if their positions had been reversed then he would be thinking the same. They are more alike than anyone really wants to admit and so she decides that she'll think like the trickster but act like Jaycee Strong would.

With a good deal of grunting and heaving and very colorful Asgardian and French swearing, Jay manages to hoist Loki's deadweight off the floor and get him semi-upright enough that she can sling one of his arms up and over her shoulder. Oooof, he weighs a ton. What is it with these Asgardians, that they collapse into a pile of concrete bricks when they're out cold?! He's ridiculously heavy despite the small signs that show he is malnourished and sickly. At least it isn't Thor. Thank goodness for small blessings. Thor would have crushed her and they would have found pancake Jay in the morning in a puddle of her own drool. Now that's an unsightly thought.

Jay feels the trickle of some liquid slide down her neck and shoulder and shudders as she realizes Loki is bleeding on her. His head hangs heavy against his chest as she struggles to move him towards her room. She really can't think of a better place to put him at the moment since it's not like the condo comes with an emergency medical bay. Her sore muscles whine in protest as she huffs and staggers. "Would it kill you to help me?" She grumbles to Loki. He doesn't respond.

Finally, they reach her room and Jay kicks the door open with her heel. The next three minutes are spent trying to quietly keep the door open while dragging a god into her room. The door is on springe hinges and the doorstop has conveniently disappeared. If Darcy stole it again she is going to have a world of hurt greeting her in the morning in the form of poisoned espresso. Jay tries to keep the door open with her shoulders, rotating Loki so he is facing her. Her feet slip and she slides down wards with a curse and fumbles Loki's weight. She crashes down onto her behind, Loki falling face first into her.

She flushes scarlet. She will not think about the position they have found themselves in. She will not think about the fact that his face is in her chest, that his eyes are directly in between her-

 _No, no, no, no._ Jaycee blocks out everything and puts all her efforts into getting the trickster off of her. Eventually she settles for rolling him off herself and scrambling away. "You would have enjoyed that you sicko, wouldn't you?" She scowls at Loki.

At last, she pulls him up onto her bed. Jay sighs in a big whoosh of air. Gods that was exhausting. Jeez, she does CrossFit and running and training with the Hawk but nothing really prepares you to haul an unconscious god to your room at 3:00am.

She stands there, with her hands on her hips, looking at Loki and trying to decide what to do next. Figuring out that she needed to get him out of the open was a no brainer but now that she literally has a god in her bed, she has no idea what to do next. Do any of the other Avengers ever find themselves in these insane situations?! Maybe Tony does, she muses.

She's going to have to clean up the blood in the hallway so that no one else wakes up and thinks she murdered a cow or went all vampiric all of a sudden. Loki's breathing is shallow and she can hear the pain in each inhale. Very carefully, she approaches him and pulls back the outer layer of his destroyed coat. Jay inhales sharply. There are slicing wounds running across his collarbones and they appear to run all the way down his torso. She _does not_ want to undress him but she knows that wounds get infected if they are left untreated. Conundrum number one.

There's also the blatant matter of the thread binding his mouth closed. Conundrum number two _. Ah great, Jay,_ she thinks to herself. _Hopefully you don't regret this._

Deciding to tackle what she can in steps, she rummages through her desk and finds a small pair of sewing scissors. She actually is starting to feel sick about what she has to do but she swallows the lump in her throat and turns back to face him. She doesn't know why he's here or what he wants but all that she does know is that no matter what his game is, she can't abide whatever tortures he has been through since they last time they saw each other. The feeling of guilt is the worst because deep down she knows that this has happened to him because of her.

 _Okay, plan: cut out stitches, clean up hallway, then deal with other wounds._ With that mental list in place, Jaycee feels slightly better. Maybe only marginally.

She kneels by his side and touches his face softly, tilting his head towards her. Memories suddenly break free from the depths of her mind and she suddenly sees him like this before. She sees his face, so peaceful in sleep, no scars yet on his face or on his soul. Then the heart wrenching image and sentiment are gone and Jay knows that she saw Loki how Sigyn once saw him.

The ties that bind him to her a strong and unfathomable to her and she doesn't know how she feels and which memories about Loki are hers sometimes because of Sigyn's influence. Seeing Loki in front of her looking broken and still is unnerving and she blinks away the surge of unwanted emotion that threatens to cloud her judgement. No, she must be ice, must not ever show a crack in her control around him. Not even when he's non-responsive.

Still, when she holds his face still, with the scissors poised above his mouth, her touch is gentle and kind.

When the gruesome task is done and his mouth is no longer sewed tight, Jay stands up, calmly walks to the small bathroom attached to her bedroom, takes one look at the exhausted face in the mirror and the blood stained hands holding scissors and destroyed black thread, she is violently sick, the non-existent contents of her stomach coming up in great sobbing dry-heaves.

She hunches over, bent in half, the bloody scissors dropping from her limp fingers. Her mind is awhirl with sensations and a headache has bloomed right behind her eyes. Jay stays that way for almost twenty minutes, shuddering in the bathroom on the cold tiles, something close to sobs ripping her apart.

If she's honest, she shut away emotion these past months.

If she's honest, she was so worried and guilt-ridden that something like this had happened to someone because of her. That Loki had finally made a deal that wasn't worth it.

If she's honest, Jay knows that part of her, part of the person that is pure Jaycee Strong and not specters and memories, part of her wants to care for him. Seeing him like this is brutal. And part of her wants devastating revenge for this, wants to tell him that he should have left her dead on the Bifrost because she cannot bear this.

If she's honest, she knows that he wouldn't have done this if he didn't care for her too.

When Jay can finally get back up she washes the scissors off, brain working back in her normal methodical way. She scrubs her hands until they are raw and then goes out to wash the blood out of the hallway. She forces herself not to look at Loki as she walks past.

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When she re-enters the room, she's relieved to see Loki's still lying there. She half expected the trickster to have disappeared. His face is still covered with blood but at least the garish stitches are gone. She shudders. It doesn't matter who you are; stitching someone's mouth closed is cruelty.

As she approaches the bed, he doesn't stir. She gently slips two fingers against his wrist to feel his pulse. Steady, that's a good sign. Jay wishes she knew more about medicine right now but she'll have to deal with what she knows. Maybe she should ask Bruce to give her a couple of lessons. She passes into the adjoining bathroom and soaks a washcloth in the sink, wringing it out with a precise twist. When she returns, she slowly pushes sweaty strands of raven hair of Loki's feverish face. She dabs the washcloth feather-light against his mouth, carefully cleaning away the blood.

Jay gently takes the cloth away from the small puncture wounds with a sigh. This is not a situation she ever thought she'd be in but that's been the story of her life ever since the Avengers showed up. Imagine what they will think when they find out about this. She really has no clue what is going to happen in the morning when Thor wakes up and finds his former brother in her bedroom. She hopes the topic of "maidenly honor" does not come up because if anyone even insinuates that she'll rearrange their fingers and toes.

She takes his pulse one last time and checks his wounds before she's going to catch a half an hour of sleep before tomorrow dawns. She'll bandage his other wounds in the morning. But as soon as her fingers touch his skin, her head snaps back as though she received an electrical shock and a memory so horrible and poignant rips through her.

There are flashes of thick, black, sinewy thread, of screams and restraining hands and a sharp spark of silver, gleaming needle.

With a gasp, Loki sits straight up and Jay falls backwards at the sudden movement. In the span of a second, long, slender fingers wrap around her throat and he's up off the bed and lifting her up as he flies across the room and slams her back against the wall. Her fingers scrabble uselessly against his death grip as her kicking legs swing a foot off the floor.

She tries desperately to say his name but all that comes out is a harsh gurgle. His eyes are furious and wide and the smear of blood still running from the corner of his mouth makes him look like a horror movie villain. Loki's fingers are crushing tighter and her throat feels like it's in a vice and black spots pop across her vision. She tries to kick him but he has her off the floor with just two hands, a mix of adrenaline and ungodly strength. His teeth are barred in a ferocious snarl and as her vision speckles further, she tries to look into his eye to bring his attention back to her.

But her focus is gone and she can't reach the manic demi-god in front of her. Her fingers are going numb and she can't feel her lips anymore. She gives a little half croak of pain and closes her eyes, the only conscious thing she can do, and prays that the end is quick and painless.

Suddenly, she's falling and crashes into the ground in a sprawled heap on the floor. She's gasping and wheezing and coughing like a sooty blacksmith's bellows all at the same time as her lungs struggle to take in any precious air. The sudden flood of oxygen to her system makes her head swim and she feels bile rise in the back of her mouth. Her throat feels raspy and rough as sandpaper and it hurts like she's breathing fire. Her body is so preoccupied with breathing that nothing else matters. That's just fine by her.

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Loki watches as the girl hacks and gasps and struggles to regain her stolen breath. He doesn't know what to do, or what just happened or where in the Nine Realms he is. One minute, he had felt someone gently touching his aching, wounded face and then the next, he was up and strangling Jaycee Strong.

As his memory returns, her breathing evens out. He squats down next to her and she flinches away. She pushes herself to a half sitting position and her hand unconsciously wanders to her throat. She looks up at him as her hand falls away and he can see the memory of needles in her eye and the dark bruises already forming in the pattern of fingers on her pale neck. He reaches a hand towards her to heal the bruises but her wary nature makes her put up a hand to stop him. He draws back.

She stands shakily and the bruises are vivid in the light. They regard each other for the space of a moment and then he remembers and his fingers fly up to his face.

Hesitantly his fingers skim over his lips and he seems almost shocked to find that there are no longer threads binding his mouth closed. She watches him with wary eyes, and he can see the readiness in her pose. If he comes at her suddenly again, she will be ready for him. He took her off guard once but that isn't going to happen again any time soon, her can see that in her eyes.

Neither of them knows what happens next. There is some much that has happened to each of them these past months and there is so much loaded history between them that they might as well be in an old western with Colt pistols in their hands, held to the other's head.

Jay rubs at the marks on her neck. Loki picks the washcloth off the floor. Jay tucks her hair behinds her eyes. Loki fiddles with a button on his shirt.

Finally Jay settles on saying the one thing she can think of that won't open up the dams of their secrets and guilt and sacrifice.

"This will be fun to explain to your brother when he wakes up," Jay mutters.


	3. Breakfast of Asgardians

"Perhaps you should lie down?"

This is such unfamiliar territory for Jay. She could conceivably see having a wounded person in her room, sure. She can imagine an Asgardian showing up out of nowhere; she's seen that happen before plenty of times now. She can even see having to maybe explain a random stranger in her room to her over protective, older-brother-figure roommate Thor.

What she cannot imagine is telling Thor that his long lost brother has returned from a literal trip to Hel with his mouth sewn shut and is now currently bunking with her because she has absolutely no idea how this situation should feasibly be handled.

"That sounds reasonable," Loki says just as carefully. They're dancing around each other right now, not sure where this game is going or even what game they are playing. Even if there was a rule book, Loki would probably set it alight after Jay had ripped it in half and stomped on it.

Neither of them moves.

Jay sighs. "No rest for the wicked," she grumbles. "And here I was thinking I was going to actually get a solid three hours tonight. I'm really starting to hate Asgardian timing." She picks up a long sleeved crop top off the dresser top and slides it on over her sore shoulders. Then she yanks her hair out of its dilapidated ponytail and twists it up into a no nonsense mass of curls on the top of her head. "I don't care what you're going to do, Horns, but I'm famished and thirsty and thinking that coffee sounds great because today is going to start super rough and probably only go downhill from there."

She looks at him, that don't-give-me-any-of-your-bullshit look on her face. He's looking at her with half lidded eyes that are as tired as her own but there is also a heavy dose of consideration. "How do you like your eggs?" she asks. "Cream and sugar in your coffee or a straight espresso shot?"

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Jay has creepy crawlies sliding down her back. She's at the stove, scrambling eggs, with Loki behind her, staring at her back as she tries to pretend she's a professional chef. She tries to look at ease but there's this persistent knot that has taken up residence in between her shoulder blades which she blames on his laser eyes drilling into her back. Loki hasn't said much and she likens it to a comatose patient under heavy sedation and just decides not to comment on it. It's easier to focus on not burning the eggs and the coffee that to face Loki about what happens next.

When she finishes cooking she slides a generous helping of scrambled eggs with cheddar and chives onto the waiting plate in front of the trickster god, next to the mug of coffee she'd brewed for him. His eyes stay on her face the whole time and it unnerves her but she doesn't let that show. She has learned fast over the past months not to be intimidated by any man and as long as she can keep herself convinced that he is just another man, then she'll be fine. The food that is left over, she puts onto other plates with slices of wheat toast for Jane, Darcy, and Selvig. She gave up cooking for Thor a long time ago.

As she starts washing dishes, she hears a cautious scrape of a fork on the plate. "It's not poisoned," she says, elbow deep in soapy water. "I haven't learned those lessons from Natasha yet."

She catches something like the beginnings of a smirk on his face and silently congratulates herself on this small victory.

"Are you planning on taking those lessons anytime soon?" Loki asks, still cautious as he stabs a healthy amount of eggs. Jay leans back against the counter, arms crossed.

"We're thinking next month. Classes at university end soon and I have decided that my summer internship would probably best be spent training with Natasha." There's a sarcastic tinge to her voice but she actually likes the sound of that plan. That could actually work. Not that she doesn't like it here, but a girl needs some time with other girl Avengers sometimes. Besides, that would mean she'd probably get to so some traveling and language learning. She'll have to drop Nat a line next time she moonlights with Hawkeye.

"Does that include extracurriculars in knife-throwing and stealth walking?" Loki asks and then tries the eggs. He chews for a moment and Jay watches in anticipation. "A little heavy on the chives," Loki tells her. "And I'm not sure but I think I detect traces of cyanide."

"Ha ha, very funny," Jay says with a straight face. "I'm glad they live up to your culinary standards." She turns to the sink to start scrubbing dishes. She feels slightly unnerved. They had just struck up a conversation that was friendly and funny, like something that would happen between two friends. They aren't friends. How can they be? There's too much between them, too much history. But it was nice and if she's honest, it wouldn't be a bad thing if they could come to some sort of truce.

"Have you prepared you lie for Thor yet, or have you not learned the art of manipulative lying yet?" Loki asks her through a mouthful of eggs.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Jay retorts.

"I'll take that as a NO."

"Lying is your domain, isn't it?"

"Well I'd like for my domain to have compliant minions and submissive subjects so I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

"Okay well then fine, you come up with a lie. Better do it quick too," Jay says, viciously scrubbing away a grease stain on a pot left in the sink from last night. She doesn't want to say what she's really thinking. She won't ask him what the truth is just yet. She's not sure she's in the best frame of mind to deal with that right now.

Almost as if he's the mind reader and not her, he says, "You could ask me the truth you know." He sees her shoulders tighten fractionally and then she forces them to relax.

She hates how this is how they are together. This is not a healthy relationship. One minute they are bantering like old friends, and then the next the air is charged with words unsaid and emotions tightly held in check.

She's saved by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Or maybe not, because she knows that big elephant feet are generally a sign that Thor is heading towards the kitchen with purpose. She whips her head around to look at Loki who actually looks a bit nervous. "You want to explain this to him or me?" Jay asks desperately as Thor rounds the corner.

Thor takes in the situation before him: his former brother with a coffee mug in his hand at the island and Jay with a soapy dish in her hand and a look of fear and trepidation in her eyes. There's that moment of cool silence before the almost literal storm that is Thor's anger and then thunder booms and Thor launches himself at Loki.

Jeez she knows he's pissed but it's not even 7am!

Having sensed his intent, Jaycee dives across the counter and slams into Thor from the side. It's like trying to derail a freight train with fly swatter. It's a good thing she wasn't leading with her face because she's pretty sure she'd look like Quasimodo if she had. As it is she hears something crack in her shoulder as she drives it into Thor's unprotected middle. She didn't really have the time to augment her attack with telekinetic energy so the first hit winds her, sending jarring waves of pain up her arm.

But she does make just enough of a difference that Thor doesn't reach Loki. Loki moves off the stool clumsily, trying to put the island between himself and Thor. He's not strong enough to face Thor right now physically, if he ever was before, and right now he's injured and Thor went straight into rabid dog mode without even asking any questions. Jay shoots a thought at Loki. _Stay out of the way. I really don't want to patch you up again._

 _Dully noted._ He thinks back at her. Thor, is still trying to get at his former brother and Jay throws everything she has into forming a telekinetic barrier around Loki and then using her own telekinesis to push Thor back. It's like trying to contain a bear with anger issues. _THOR!_ She screams the thought at him, since she's too tired to speak while holding barriers in place. _He's not hurting anyone. I'm fine. You need to calm down because I'm exhausted and crabby and if you don't so help me I will telekinetically shove you into the sewer system and let the New Mexico crocodiles eat you. STOP!_

She doesn't realize that she'd projected that last threat loudly until she hears Loki snort with laughter. This only serves to enrage Thor again who tries to make a grab for the trickster again. _That threat applies to you too, Horns._ Jay snarls and she holds Thor back.

Finally, Thor calms down enough that he isn't pushing against her shields anymore. "There had better be a good explanation for this, Loki," Thor growls. Jay keeps her shields up in defense. She looks at Loki with one eyebrow raised.

"If you're planning on telling us why you're here, now would be a great time for the truth or some lies, whichever you choose so long as I get to drop these shields and take a nap soon," Strong slurs out. Loki looks at her shrewdly and sees just how tired she really is, propping herself up with willpower alone. So he decides now is probably a good time to make his play.

Faster than either Thor or Jay can react, Loki grabs a butcher's knife from the wooden block on the counter next to the stove, grabs Jay by her hair from behind and pulls her half up over the island, leaning over the other half, to hold the blade at her throat.

With a harsh gurgle, Jay exhales in pain, her hair pulled tight to her skull. Her barriers drop but Thor is hesitant to take a step forward as Loki has a very sharp stainless steel blade to her jugular. Jay's eyes roll backwards to glare at Loki, her eyes narrowed in pain as she's forced to hold the awkward position, her back arched to allow her to stay semi-upright across the island so that the knife doesn't bite into her neck.

"Loki," Thor says, voice wary and hard. "Let her go."

"You really need to come up with more creative ways of saying that, _brother_ ," Loki says nonchalantly, as if they are just sitting down to tea. "It's so tiresome to hear it the same way."

"You bastard," Jay snarl-gasps at him, her hands reaching towards her hair to try and relieve some of the pressure there. OW, he's giving her a headache. The blade presses into her skin and she feels blood dribble down her neck.

"Oh no, little girl," Loki admonishes her. "You stay right there and be quiet." He leans over her so their faces are centimeters away. "You and I have some business to settle."

Jay spits up at him.

Momentarily blinded and surprised, Loki relaxes his hold on her hair fractionally but it's all the opportunity she needs. She thanks Barton and Natasha for all of the training she's put in over the past months. Lesson number one was never being afraid to play dirty. With as big of a telekinetic shove as she can manage, she pushes the blade away from her neck at the same time that she pushes deep into her hamstrings and springs backwards over the island, her head driving straight into Loki's stomach. He lets out a gasp of air and his hand closes tight on her hair again, twisting the skin around her face painfully. She grabs his hand with the knife in it and by sheer force of will and some selective applications of stength, makes him drop it by stabbing her thumb into the pressure point at his wrist.

He yanks on her hair and knees her in the gut but she elbows him under the chin and he finally lets go of her curls. She switches her stance and nails him with a roundhouse kick that would have flattened a normal man. He just manages to deflect it so he doesn't take the hit as hard but she's gotten faster in the past few months and her fingers are already jabbing into the lymph nodes under his ears. Momentarily stunned, there's not much he can do when she wrenches one of his arms behind his back, forces him to his knees and pulls his head back.

Thor watches all of this happen within seconds and decides he does not want to get in between this new version of Jay and her target. She looks like some kind of avenging Valkyrie and it's quite clear she can handle herself.

Loki looks up at her and sees a feralness there that is new and startlingly beautiful. "I've always liked girls who play rough," he laughs and then goes boneless underneath her.

Surprised by his sudden collapse, it takes Jay a moment to realize he has passed out again. Blood soaks her hands from the reopened cuts on his chest. Horrified by what she just did, Jay drops to her knees next to him and presses her hands to his wounds. A wave of dizziness hits her, the aftereffects of adrenaline swimming in her system. As it wears off, she knows she's going to crash hard so she swallows a blush and rips Loki's shirt to pieces.

Thor finally comes to stand by her side and she uses the ragged remains of Loki's undershirt to try and bandage the wounds on his body. He kneels next to her and sees the wounds for the first time, blood dribbling from Loki's lips where the skin has reopened. He can identify the wounds for what they are even though Jay can't. Whip marks. His anger and confusion and hatred fade when he sees this and he remembers that moment on the Bifrost when his brother had looked at him in that resigned way. That resigned way that said he was ready for whatever would happen to him if he went to Hel to try and bargain for Jaycee's life.

It's clear from the anguished look on Jay's face that she knows this. He can almost see the guilt coming off her in waves. He knows she only reacted in self-defense but Jaycee is that strange breed of warrior that can now handle herself in a fight and is fiercely single-minded when in the midst of a battle, but is also so human that afterwards, she's even upset at victory if she's really hurt someone.

"I think it's safe to say that he won't underestimate your ability to defend yourself anymore," Thor says, trying to lighten the mood. Jay looks at him, that open, grieving look on her voice that says she's not dealing with this well and Thor immediately regrets his words. She's horrified by what she just did, even if Loki was just threatening her and would do so in a moment again if it got him what he wanted. This is the key difference between the trickster and the mind-reader: one of them still cares about other people.

Jay stands and goes to the sink to wet the tattered remains of Loki's shirt. Not knowing what to do, Thor rolls his brother onto his back and winces when he sees the puncture marks on his brother's face. It's a cruel kind of memory that surfaces in his mind; a memory of a childish threat to sew his brother's lips shut if he couldn't keep his snide comments about Thor's friends to himself. He never would have done but clearly someone else did.

"Thor?" The gasp that comes from Jane at the kitchen doorway, is followed by a "whoa" from Darcy who follows closely behind. They spot Jay by the sink, blood on her neck, calmly and wearily wringing out a rag. "Thor, Jay, what in the name of the stars is going on?"

Jay comes around the island and teeters a bit. Thor looks at her in concern as she weaves a bit. Uh oh, the adrenaline is wearing off and she's gonna hurl. Not enough sleep, too much dealing with crazed trickster gods. Not conducive to staying awake much longer.

"We made you breakfast. Eggs, toast and coffee. Enjoy it while it's still hot. Although I think I might have flattened some of the oranges. Ooops." Then Jay passes out where she stands landing in an unceremonious heap on the floor.


	4. Playing the Politician

When she finally comes to, the sun is starting to sink in the sky and she has a wicked headache that has taken up residence behind her left eyeball.

She pushes herself up to her elbows and realizes she's in her own bed. The clock on the bedside table says 4:00pm. Damn, she's slept the whole day away. Why does her body hurt so much? It feels like she got into a fight with someone twice her size….

Oh yeah. It all comes flooding back in vicious clarity. The butcher's knife, the island, going all Black Widow on Loki, whip marks and just surrendering to exhaustion. No wonder she has a headache. These Asgardians are going to give her white hairs. She has a sneaking suspicion that this is how Fury feels about the Avengers and doesn't really want to sympathize with the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D. right now.

Groggily, she turns herself over so she's sitting on top of the covers. She's still wearing her battered workout capris from last night and the old t-shirt she uses for fitness classes. She can smell stale sweat in her hair and crinkles her nose in disgust. While she's not a particularly vain person, smelling like the inside of Tony's Iron Man armor is not something she's entirely comfortable with. Seriously, he never even hoses that thing down. If Jarvis had a nose he would have already suffered cardiac arrest or maybe some kind of olfactory over-stimulative disease. At least whoever carried her in here had the curtesy to leave her as she was. If she'd woken up in another set of clothes she probably would already be halfway to the living room right now to demonstrate the proper application of the word "throttle".

Since no one is waiting in the room for her to wake up and she feels gritty and stale, Jay pops into the shower quickly. She scrubs her hair fast and keeps it quick. She almost swoons once she has her sweats and baggy long-sleeved shirt on. Oh that feels heavenly. The only thing she does when she looks in the mirror is make sure that there's no fresh bruises and that the dried blood on her neck is all gone. Her hair goes up high; nothing else can be done with this mane so why even bother fighting.

When she emerges from her room, she can hear voices down the hall in the living room. She rubs a hand under her eyes to rid herself of the last vestiges of sleep and yawns one last time before forcing her eyes to brighten and focus. Jay really, really wishes that she could have slept more because there are too many voices coming from the room. It's not just Thor, Jane, Selvig and Darcy, she's sure of that. That can only mean one thing and it doesn't bode well.

When she rounds the corner, she gives an unhappy sigh when she sees Clint, Natasha, Tony, Steve, and Banner in the room. They all look up as she enters and she looks accusingly at Thor. "Did you really have to call the Avengers on me? You're a traitor."

"Psych!" Tony yells and jumps up off the couch and prances over to assess her critically. Conspiratorially he holds a hand up to the side of his mouth and talks to her out the side of his lips in a whisper. "I hear you brought a bad boy home and are now in trouble with the adoptive parentals. Good for you, you minx." Jay looks at him, gives him a fake smile of joy and then flips him off.

"Wow, temp-er-men-tal," he laughs, drawing the word out. "Who peed in your coffee?"

"Tony, enough," Steve says from the couch. Natasha pats the spot next to her on the couch and Jay reluctantly heads over for the inevitable briefing and arguing that is bound to follow. "You okay, Jay?" Steve asks.

She waves a hand flippantly at him, as if to say, "Fine, fine, get on with it." She covers up a yawn by rolling her neck around and is rewarded with several small pops as the aches work themselves out. Everyone takes a position around the table. Jay notes that Loki is conspicuously missing and wonders what kind of containment unit Fury came up with this time to restrain the trickster god. She'll be it's not as posh as the one he was in when he was a prisoner on the Helicarrier before he wreaked havoc on New York before they met.

When no one breaks the silence, she sighs. "Catch me up to speed on what's going on and what you've talked about so far," she says tiredly.

Thor looks at her sheepishly. "I only called the Avengers in because I thought you were in danger. I know you can handle yourself pretty well now but I don't trust my brother anymore. Whatever the reason for his return, there is something going on behind the scenes that we don't know yet. I thought it would be safer to have more friends in the area if things escalate, which they inevitably will do with Loki around."

"I'm not mad at you for calling the Avengers," Jaycee says even as Tony snorts in derision. "Loki is volatile though and he wouldn't have come here without a good reason. For better or for ill, we do have a connection and he senses it even if he doesn't want to admit it. I would have liked to question him myself before involving a whole superhuman task force but there's nothing we can do about it now."

"So you wouldn't have told us?" Steve asks with disbelief in his voice. "Are you asking to get hurt?"

Jay glares at him. "You know as well as I do that Loki and I have some bizarre connection through the memories I have from Sigyn's life. If anyone here can get anything out of him, it would have been me."

"Oh so you would have let him rip your life apart just to get answers, is that it?" Steve asks maliciously.

"Why are you being like this?" Jay throws back at him. "You know I can handle myself now, that's why I've trained with Barton and Romanoff. I'm not saying I'm invincible, only that I don't need the cavalry all the time anymore. Why are you so against me making decisions?"

"Because your judgment is clearly impaired when it comes to a certain trickster god," Rogers spits back. Not one of the other Avengers tries to step in on this argument. Tony is too busy trying to decide who to bet on and the rest don't know how to get in between this disagreement without getting chewed out themselves. It's always been clear to everyone but Jay that Rogers has feelings for her and the fact that she doesn't see it only makes their arguments that much worse. "You asked the man to kill you for Christ's sake. You don't think like a same, rational person when he's around like you have this moribund fascination with getting hurt!" Steve explodes.

Jay goes white in the face, shocked that Captain America of all people just went to that place. He seems to realize it half a moment later and his face falls. "Jay, I didn't…. Jaycee, I'm-,"

"No," Jay says softly but with great ferocity. "You're not sorry so don't say it. You meant every word you just said so don't pretend you didn't." She's breathing hard, her eyes shining. There has been an unspoken agreement between the Avengers that they don't talk about what Jay asked Loki to do on the Bifrost. Steve just crossed a line they all set the day that Jay came back from the land of the dead.

A moment of tense passes and Jaycee can see that Steve is going to try to apologize again so she shuts him up prematurely by asking, "So back to the topic at hand. What did I miss?"

Bruce tries to clear his throat subtly in discomfort. Thor takes the reins. "I called Stark up after you passed out yesterday morning. Loki is currently locked in the basement, unconscious. He hasn't yet recovered since the incident in the kitchen."

"From what I heard it was actually a really exquisite knife fight," Barton interrupts which gets him an elbow from Natasha. He gives her a "what did I say?" look. "Nice job, kiddo," he says, reaching a hand up towards Jay for a high five which she studiously ignores.

Tony rolls his eyes in the corner. Thor clears his throat. "Stark reconnected with the rest of the Avengers and they got here last night. You've been out for almost two days and we thought it best to let you recover so that we could move forward once you awaken. We've been trying to discern the reason that Loki has reappeared now and here but have not made much headway so far. We haven't turned him over to S.H.I.E.L.D. yet since we know Fury will interrogate him but not about the things we want to know."

"And what are those things," Jay asks but her query is more a statement than question and it's clear she's already guessed where this is going.

Thor sighs, a tired expression on his face. "We believe that Loki chose you precisely because he knew that you wouldn't be able to turn him away. I'm not agreeing or disagreeing with how you handled the situation but I do believe he intends to manipulate you."

"What would he want from me now though?" Jay asks. "I no longer have his memories that he wanted back. Those were wiped from my memory when I…. when I died on the Bifrost. I would think he wouldn't want anything else from me."

"But he does," Tony says, pacing around the couch to stand in front of her. "Whatever he traded for your life was clearly not what he intended if he shows up on your doorstep with his mouth sewn shut." Jaycee winces, which does not go unnoticed. Even if she's telling them she doesn't think Loki wants anything from her, she does have suspicions.

"So what now then?" Jay asks. "Loki has never been forthcoming about his plans before; what makes you think he will be now?"

Natasha and Barton exchange a glance that does not go undetected by Stark and Strong. "Okay Spider," Tony says, putting his hands on Natasha's shoulders over the edge of the couch, "What do you know?"

Barton shrugs at Romanoff. "They'll hear about it from Fury within a day so we might as well lay it out now."

Natasha smooths her hands down her thighs. "Fury was planning on opening up talks with the delegation from Vanaheim."

There is a beat of dead silence. Surprisingly it is Banner that says what is on all of their minds. "Fury cannot be serious. He means to use Jay as a tool, doesn't he? He's looking at Vanaheim and thinking that it would be nice to have some space buddies on our side and he knows he can force negotiations to go his way since he's been training the heir to the Vanir throne."

Jay looks at Thor. Astonishingly enough, she hasn't gotten angry yet about being a puppet in another scheme of Fury's. "What would happen if they were to realize that I am Sigyn's bloodline? How would that change the dynamic of the Nine Realms?"

Thor hesitates and that is the first sign that he may have figured out why Loki has turned up now. "Vanaheim and Asgard have been allies for a long time but that alliance has always been tenuous. The Vanir are an independent people who value their freedom to choose as something almost sacred. The peace between Asgard and Vanaheim is fragile at best and there have been murmurs of a Vanir rebellion movement. Vanaheim has always been treated as a vassal state of Asgard. If someone with ties to Midgard or Asgard was to step forward to claim the Vanir throne, there's no telling what kind of reaction the Vanir people may have."

"Do you think Loki knows about this somehow?" Steve asks, speaking up for the first time since his disastrous interlude earlier.

"I doubt it," Stark says. "He hasn't been somewhere pleasant for the past seven months, let's be honest. My guess is that whatever bargain he made with the crazy cosmic dead chick is now coming into full effect?"

"Do you think Hel could have something to do with this?" Thor asks skeptically. "She's never had a cause to meddle with Midgard or Vanaheim before and I can't see what she would have to gain."

"Point Break, you know that crazy Norse gods and goddesses are your specialty. I'm not saying that the events are linked but I don't believe in coincidences, not after everything we've seen in the past couple of years. This thing with Vanaheim? Loki definitely has something to do with and my guess is that Xena is central to whatever is going to happen."

"What about Odin?" Jay asks and Thor looks at her in surprise. She doesn't like the fact that she just brought too much attention to herself but she can't help but point out what she sees. "Think about it. Odin and Fury have been in contact ever since Tyr attacked New York. Could something be going on there?"

Barton raises an eyebrow. "What are you thinking of, kiddo?"

She scowls at him. "Don't call me kiddo, Bird-Brain. Do it again and I'll grind your bow through the wood chipper. But think about it. What does Odin stand to gain if Fury opens negotiations with Vanaheim? From what we saw of the past when Vanaheim lost the war, Odin is contemptuous of the Vanir people. If he knew that someone that was on his side was going to open talks with his old enemy, wouldn't it be beneficial to him if both Fury and Odin could control whoever was in charge of Vanaheim? Then both Asgard and Earth have another Realm to call upon in times of crisis, greatly increasing Asgard's and Earth's power in the Nine Realms. If Fury plans to use me as a bargaining chip, it's feasible that Odin is influencing that plan. No offense Thor, but your dad would love to control Vanaheim to keep it as he own personal resource store. He already uses minerals and labor from Vanaheim like it's a colonial state and putting a puppet figurehead in place would only allow him to increase his pull."

The Avengers exchange looks with each other. "When did you become a Senator?" Tony asks. "Quick someone remove all her Star Wars movies because I'm pretty sure she thinks she's Princess Leia on a diplomatic mission."

Jay flushes slightly. "It only makes sense," she mutters.

"Wait," Thor interjects. "If Fury plans to put Jay on the throne of Vanaheim, how does he plan to keep her there?"

"He's got a point, Xena," Stark says. "You may know a thing or two about political machinations but earning the support of the Vanir people is not something anyone can do overnight. Especially your with you lack of charm and tact." Strong gives him the evil eye.

"We don't have all the information," Steve says.

"So who's interrogating Funny Horns?" Stark asks.

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Barton and Thor are the ones who end up drawing the metaphorical short straw. Loki has been locked in the small cellar of their strange condo-house, hands chained to a metal suspension beam, far from anything he could use to escape. Not that he looks up to the task of escaping right now. He hasn't stirred for the past two days, only vague mutterings of pain occasionally when he unconsciously shifts his weight to relieve the pressure on some of his injuries. Thor has watched him so much in the past hours before the Avengers arrive that he is beginning to see just how much damage his former brother sustained.

He does not know which injuries are from recent skirmishes and which are from whatever he endured over the past couple of months. It is achingly clear though that the whip marks across his torso are recent, no more than three days old so he must have either escaped Hel or the more disturbing alternative, been released, within hours of stumbling into their house and giving their resident mind reader a shock.

Barton and Thor stand in front of the trickster for long moments. Then the Hawk says, "Do you want me to do the honors?" Thor nods, the ghost of a smile on his face at Barton's poor attempt at humor.

Barton kneels down in front of Loki and none too nicely slaps his face a couple of times. Thor almost winces, seeing the cuts on Loki's face bleeding still. Loki groggily comes to, eyes swimming into focus slowly and then focusing first on Barton and then Thor.

"Unhh, five more minutes?" he slurs.

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When Banner and Jay finish catching up on new scientific breakthroughs, she wanders down the hall, still slightly bleary-eyed from the past day. Man is her mind spinning. Not only has this escalated faster than she's comfortable with, but it's also gone down the route she hoped it wouldn't. She's just fine here on Earth thank you; she has no interest in becoming a puppet ruler of a realm she's never seen, let alone considered.

She rounds the corner to head upstairs to see if Darcy is up for a dance session on the patio when she hears voices in the rooms above. Instinct tells her to leave it, because she knows that it's probably not something she wants to hear. But she can't help herself as she crouches on the stair case, only three steps from the top and goes still, straining to hear the conversation. She opens her mind to expand her senses and she can just make out Natasha's voice.

"You do know that you only act irrational around that girl."

Steve's answer is a growl low in his stomach. "She can't see that she's putting herself at risk for no apparent practical reason. She acts blind when it comes to that maniac and I don't like it. It's not a bad thing to notice and point out to the other."

"Yes but you haven't realized the other thing that points out to all of us," Natasha says calmly. Jaycee strains to listen because Natasha has that voice thing going which says that she's interrogating Steve within him even realizing.

"Oh, and what is that?" Rogers says and Jay can almost see him crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't think it's not obvious that you care for her?"

Jay clamps a hand firmly over her mouth. This is not good.

Romanoff continues. "We see the way you look at her, Steve. She's the only one who can make you angry and over-protective and it's because you care. Don't lie to yourself, Captain America. Whether or not you want to admit it, you care deeply about her."

Jay bites her fingers hard to keep from hollering in frustration. Steve, he likes her? He likes f'ed up little, Jay? No that can't be, Natasha must be having a paranoia moment. But then her delusion is shattered.

"Is it really that obvious?" He sighs.

Something in Jay breaks down then. No, no, this can't be happening. No, no, no. Why this? Why now? She holds in a sob and a scream of anger. She's not worth him, will never be worth him. He's bloody Captain America, there's no way he can care about her. She's a destructive whirlwind that's only been barely under control these past couple of months.

"You can't force her to choose anything, Steve," Natasha is saying. "She needs to find out who she is and you know how much she wants to please. She'd never want to hurt you if she knew. You need to trust her to make her own decisions. She's a smart girl, she can make the right ones."

"But can she?" Rogers asks. "You see how _he_ affects her. Every time he's around, her judgements are different and tell me if I'm wrong but they have a connection unlike anything I could ever hope for with her. She…," Here is voice breaks and Jay wants to slink away, doesn't want to hear what comes next but she's paralyzed in the same spot.

"She asked him to kill her, Natasha," Steve whispers hoarsely. "What kind of person does that? Did she not think we could protect her?" His voice increases in volume, angst-ridden and self-loathing. "Instead she asks that…that… criminal to stab her through the heart."

There is a moment of silence that is so thick it threatens to strangle and agonized sound out of Jay. Then she hears Romanoff again.

"She did it because she cares about us," the Black Widow says, "She cares about us enough to spare us making that horrible decision. Do you really think you could have killed her Steve, to save a world, could you have strangled her? Could Tony have? Could Barton? No, she did what she thought she had to to spare us and to save Vanaheim. If that's not the hallmark of a strong and intelligent woman then I don't know what is."

Squatting on the stairs, Strong hears a strangled sound come from Steve. "But did she even think about what it would have done to us,…. To me,… to lose her? Did she think about that?" When Natasha doesn't answer for several tense moments, Jay feels a presentiment of movement and scurries down the stairs just as the door to the room opens and Steve barges out. She quickly turns the corner and hides as Steve blows by, yanking the sliding glass patio door open so hard it comes off its hinges. He looks back at it in disgust and Jay tries to melt into the wall.

Only when he's out of sight does she allow herself to sink to the floor and bury her head in her arms, knees drawn in tight to her chest.

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"Why did you come here?" Barton asks.

Loki doesn't answer, just shifts so he isn't leaning against the support beam.

Barton waits for an answer. Loki doesn't give one, just stares at them through drunken eyes that don't stay focused for very long on anything.

"What did you bargain for with Hel?" Thor asks, picking the one question he wants to know the most and probably the one that will get the only reaction. Sure enough, Loki's eyes sharpen and a mockery of a sneer appears on his face. "Answer the question, Loki," Thor says, his voice low and threatening even though he knows that will have no effect on his former brother.

Loki cocks his head back and regards Thor through slightly slitted eyes. Thor is surprised to notice that even though Loki probably intends for the look to be calculating and sinister, it is actually because he is in pain. He can't help but notice the wounds on the trickster, meant to be painful, meant to leave scars. He can't help but grieve a little for what he suspects Loki did. If that is true, Thor knows that he won't be able to hate Loki like he wants to, won't be able to vilify him for hurting both himself and Jaycee.

Loki chuckles. "Okay, _brother dear,_ I'll answer your questions. On one condition." Thor had been expecting this and the weariness that pervades his bones only intensifies as Loki finishes that thought.

"I will talk to Jaycee Strong and no one else."


	5. Vulnerability

"Come on dear, surely there's nothing else you can do tonight."

She sighs, "You know there's always something more to do, love, it's the nature of who we are."

"But surely you can spare just a few moments of your time for your ally?" He says seductively with a bit of a chuckle. He gets up off the bed, where he had been lounging to come and stand behind her where she's bent over the desk, working on trade agreements. He places two strong hands firmly on her shoulders, massaging deep into her muscles. "Goodness, you have enough knots in your shoulders to make a net that would hold up your kingdom." She rolls her neck and hears a pop as a crick snaps somewhere in her vertebra. "Come on, give it a rest, Lady of the Never-ending-Tasks."

She looks at him wryly over her shoulder. "You know this has to get done. If I can't seal this allegiance that could be the end of this whole endeavor. And you know how I despise wasted time." He runs his hands up into her scalp and she gives a startled shudder underneath his touch. His slender hands catch in her curls slightly and he tugs upwards, but gently. "Stop that, you twit," she says and swats a hand at him but is ineffective, seeing as he's behind her. He pulls a little more and she relents and stands to face him.

"You know, there are more humane ways to get me to acknowledge you than pulling my hair," she says and although she's trying to be serious, she can't help the happy grin that steals across her face.

"You work too much," he retorts. "If I had to bodily pick you up and put you on the bed to have some time with you then I would."

She blushes despite herself. "You think you could, darling," she says, pulling away, an unintentional sultry look coming into her eyes. "You don't have quite as much power over me as you wish you did."

"Oh really," he says, that dark, playful look in his eyes. He rushes her and picks her up in one big sweep, eliciting a surprised squeak. She beats her small hands against his chest, but he throws her down onto the bed and pounces on her. An indignant giggle comes out of her, one of his favorite sounds and he straddles her, pining her arms out at her sides. She thrashes under him, cursing her dress and making a fuss despite the fact that she's much smaller than him and isn't quite as physically strong.

"You, weasel," she gasps, but she's smiling. "Let me up so I can whack you over the head with that big book of Courtly Etiquette."

"Nope," he quips. "I like my head unwhacked, thank you very much, you little vixen."

"Oh get off," she snorts, laughing. She struggles against him, her chest heaving with the effort. "Damn this dress," she growls, her legs all tangled in her skirts. "You're a damn good trickster, you know that?"

He smiles at her in that devilish way of his. "It's in my nature."

"Okay, you've had your fun, now let me up," she says. When he doesn't move, doesn't even flicker a muscle, she raises an eyebrow at him. She renews her struggles, trying to get him off.

"Oh don't be like that," he laughs. "You keep struggling and I just might have to do something drastic."

"Oh, really?" she asks and continues to try and pry her wrists out of his grasp.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he laughs. She tugs hard at her left wrist, revealing a beautiful line of pale skin from her collarbone to chin. He plants a kiss along the line of her neck and she stills for a moment in surprise, then continues to try and break free. He continues to kiss her neck, from her collarbone to her chin and unbidden, an uncharacteristic girly giggle rises from her throat.

"Stop that, you… you…..,"she's breathless with laughter as he smiles into her skin.

"Ticklish, love?" he growls against her skin and she sputters and tries to deny it but her skin flushes as she tries not to laugh. "Here?" he asks, kissing her neck. She tries to strangle the laugh before it escapes but fails, utterly. "Here?" he asks, kissing her jawline. Her breathing is fast against his shoulder, her breath warm and comforting. "Here?" A kiss on the cheek. Then he pulls back, looking at her beautiful eyes that shine like starlight, looking up at him with the brightness of a thousand suns. He kisses her full on the lips, sees her eyelashes flutter shut as she finally relaxes under his touch.

When he pulls back from her she looks into his face. "There?" Loki asks, with a signature smirk.

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Jay wakes up so violently that she's sitting bolt upright when her eyes open. She kicks at the covers as she stumbles out of bed, weaving like a mad person, hands slipping against the door frame. She bangs her shin on the edge of a bookcase but doesn't feel it. She trips, falls into the bathroom and barely has time to crawl the last few feet to the toilet before she's outrageously sick.

Jay had no idea that nightmares can make you this violently, disgustingly sick to your stomach.

She hacks and wheezes hard, her throat burning with the effort even though nothing is coming up after the first couple of moments. The acrid taste of bile is searing her whole esophagus and her face is bloodless to the point of being ghostly. Sweat soaks her hair, from the roots all the way to the ends, almost like she's just taken a long, salty shower. Her hands can only be described as clammy. She's shaking hard and she swears she can feel her brain vibrating in her skull. She's panting like she just ran a bloody marathon and her tank top is plastered to her skin which shines with a sheen of perspiration.

Jay's head swims suddenly and she loses her grip on the edge of the toilet bowl, one hand slipping down to the cold linoleum floor to support her. Her vision refuses to steady and her gorge rises again even though she knows there's nothing left in her to heave up. She knows what's happening, knew it was coming, but still it shocks her that she can't control her body anymore, that's it's falling apart underneath her.

The tang of the adrenaline rush fills her whole and sings a cacophony of ridiculous noise in her already pounding head. Of course it happens now, when she's still reeling from the dream. Hazily, she staggers to her feet, hauling her weight up by pulling herself bodily as she uses the vestiges of her strength to lift herself up the door handles on the bathroom cabinet, then the sink top, and finally to upright, a destroyed image of a woman looking back at her from the bathroom mirror. She doesn't spare the reflection a moment as she opens the cabinet behind it, removes the false back and pulls out the syringe.

Her hands are still shaking and she curses her weakness, curses her body for abandoning her when she most needs to be in charge. The first vial she grabs slips from her fingers and cracks on the sink counter top, spraying her hands with glass shards and a viscous amber gel. The doesn't stop to feel the pain as the glass slices her skin, just grabs the next vial with sticky, sweaty hands, needle of the syringe bouncing dangerously in her grasp. The rubber top of the vial won't seem to line up with the needle, no matter what she does and a frustrated sob escapes her as she tries to quench the horrible hard tremors that are rippling up her body.

 _Come on, Jay,_ she screams at herself. The needle shakes uncontrollably and she swears as her knees give out and she slumps down, catching her elbow hard on the sink top. She manages to hold on to the vial but the syringe clatters into the sink as her chin cracks against the cabinet door. Her heart is pounding too fast, her breathing too shallow as she feels her throat work hard to swallow air. _No, not like this!_ Jay tries not to panic, tries to pulls herself back up to grab the life-saving syringe, but she can't; her limbs are failing her now and she feels the hand with the vial still in it unclench.

Somewhere in the background she hears a quick burst of a repetitive pattern and idly wonders what it could be. There are a lot of loud noises all of a sudden, right next to her face and new blurry images instead of the monotony of the tiles on the wall and floor. _How interesting_ , she thinks distractedly. She knows there is something she's supposed to be doing but it doesn't seem to matter now. Everything hurts so why fight it?

There is a quick, vicious pain in her chest out of nowhere and it snaps her clean out of her stupor.

She gasps back into awareness. The syringe is buried in her chest, right above her heart, the cylinder held in a firm hand. She follows the hand, up the arm to the chest, neck and then face. Clint Barton's terrified eyes stare back at her.

They don't say anything as her eyes clear or as he pulls the syringe from her chest with a tug. She inhales sharply as the needle squelches out of her skin and then the urge to vomit comes back so hard that she pushes Barton bodily away and violently dry-heaves over the toilet again. Nothing comes up but at this point she'd be surprised if she'll be able to hold anything down for a week. She probably doesn't have any stomach acid left in her stomach.

Barton holds her hair back, one hand on her upper back in an almost fatherly gesture. She doesn't realize that muted sobs are coming out of her until Barton gently runs a hand under her eyes.

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A while later, Jay is leaning against the sink cabinet and Barton is across from her, sitting against the wall. Both their legs are splayed outwards haphazardly. Jay is still soaked with sweat and trembling slightly but nowhere near as hard as before. Barton silently passes her a towel from the rack neck to the shower and she gratefully rubs it down her arms and across her chest and then wraps it around her shoulders like a shawl. They haven't said anything to each other yet and Jay silently thanks him for that. Barton is the one Avenger who knows how to give her space and time.

Finally, Clint breaks the silence. "Is this the first time, or the first time I've seen it happen?"

Jay's teeth clack as she shivers. "First time for you," she says quietly.

"You know you should have told me about it happening before this. We knew it was coming," he says reproachfully but not in an angry way. "Have you had more blood work done yet?"

"No," Jay shakes her head. "I wasn't going to have any more tests run until our next mission together. I thought it would be alright until then. I should have known better than that. It never works out nicely. It's just how my luck runs."

"Do you know what triggered it?" He asks. She looks away, biting her lip. He sighs, knowing she won't tell him but he's surprised when she then looks back up and meets his eyes.

"I've been having… nightmares."

"What kind?" Barton asks, surprised by her uncharacteristic candor. Normally it would take the Jaws of Life to pry an answer out of Jay, let alone a secret she doesn't want to tell.

"Memories," Jay says, her eyes far away for a moment. "There are days when I can't tell what is mine."

Sensing that she's going to close back off any moment, Barton changes the topic. "We need to have your adrenals evaluated again, kiddo. Bruce is here. If you're comfortable with it, he may be able to help isolate the specific issue." He doesn't want to press too hard with Jay, knowing that she doesn't want all the Avengers to know what's going on with her body. He can respect that.

Years of experimentation and living on the run have given Jay chronic problems that are now just appearing. Too much time in the "fight or flight" cortisol zone and too much stress on the body have caused her adrenal glands to fatigue. She can no longer reliably produce adrenaline when she needs it in a fight but she also can experience rushes of adrenaline that are too high for her body to handle which can lead to serious heart and lung over activity.

They'd picked it up on one of their moonlight adventures last month when a sudden surge of fatigue had flattened Jay at the end of the mission. They'd done an evaluation of her blood and found that she had lower than normal adrenaline. At first they'd written it off as over-tiredness but then a week later when they were prepping their parachutes for a drop-in operation, Jay has started spazzing out, her breathing all wrong and her heartbeat through the roof. They'd suspected the trigger for that had been her residual fear of heights. Luckily they'd had a beta-blocker compound on hand that had stopped the over-activation of adrenaline in her body but Barton had insisted in having further tests done to see how far the damage was already. Jay had resisted at first but then relented when Barton had pointed out that it would blunt her senses and probably disrupt her telepathy and telekinesis. Only one set of tests had been run to date and the vial Barton had injected Jay with contained a beta-blocker developed by scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D. that she'd brought home with her as a precaution.

Both of them are extremely grateful now that they had the foresight to do so because otherwise Jay wouldn't be alive right now.

"You really scared the life out of me, there," Barton says after a while.

Jay snorts, a clear signal that she's back in charge. "And it didn't scare me?"

"Do you think it has something to do with the memories?" Barton asks carefully. Jay cocks her head, considering.

"Probably, at some level," Jaycee sighs. "It's been a particularly eventful couple days. Exciting even for my standards."

Clint sighs. "He'll only speak to you." Jay nods, rubbing a hand under her eyes tiredly. "You know no one is going to be happy about that." Jay twists her lips in a disgruntled way, knowing where he's going with this.

"And what do you think, Agent Eats-Raw-Mouse-For-Breakfast?" Barton gives her a scathing look but there is a smile in his eyes at her attempt at humor. He knows her well enough by now to know that her snide jokes are her way over pushing painful moments away from her cluttered mind. Poor kid has enough to deal with without this stupid adrenal disease messing her up too. Compound that with Loki's presence and she's sure to be a handful for the next couple of days.

"I think we might have to some good cop, bad cop with him for a while to see if that helps get us some answers," Hawkeye says with a grin.

"Oooooooo, do I get to be the bad cop?" Jay says with a laugh. "That would just make my night."

Barton laughs quietly. "How about you get some sleep first; you're quite a handful and you exhaust me."

"Can't keep up?" Jay says with a fake cock-sure tone. Barton shakes his head in mock consternation and gets to his feet, slapping his hands absent-mindedly on his thighs. He holds out a hand to Jay which she considers for a moment as her independence flares up, then takes it and he helps her up. She sways just a bit and then rubs her chest in pain. "Damn, you stabbed me in the heart, Bird-Boy," she says fluttering her eyes in a lovestruck movie star way. "Ow."

"You do know you're ridiculous, right, girl?" Barton says, unable to wipe the smile off his face despite the seriousness of the past few days.

"You wouldn't love me so much if I was normal," Jay says, blowing him a kiss. She staggers a bit, still weak and recovering but already looking better.

"You're hopped up on the drugs aren't you?" Barton says, eyebrow raised.

"Yep!" Jay says. "I'm so chipper I could give a drunk sorority girl a run for her money!"

She continues to drift off into crazy land as the beta-blockers mess with her mind and Barton half carries her towards her bed as she rambles. He knows she'll wake up embarrassed and tired but he doesn't mind. Tonight was such a close call. He didn't imagine that this was going to catch up with them so soon but he really should have considering they have a mad god locked up in the basement, a mind reader with royal blood in her veins and a group of super humans all in the same house. Seeing her dying in front of him has rattled him and he's grateful beyond measure that he got there in time to save her. Whether or not she knows it, Jay has become an important part of the Avengers and losing her would be devastating. He won't tell the rest of them about this yet; he respects Jay enough to wait until she's ready. He just hopes that what happened tonight won't happen in a battle or around the trickster god. The consequence could be disastrous.

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A violent half-scream awakens Thor from his post on the chair in the basement. Startled, he is surprised to see Loki shaking hard, arms straining against the shackles, sweat pouring down his face as his injuries rip open afresh. Concern overrides caution as Thor surges towards his brother who is struggling with invisible demons. Loki's green eyes are unfocused and far away; something only he can see is tormenting him. Thor stalls out, unsure what to do as Loki utters another cry that sounds half heartbreaking agony and half angry despair.

There is a distant slam upstairs that Thor doesn't have time to wonder about. Somehow though, peripherally, he knows that it has to do with whatever is happening to Loki.

Then Loki's eyes clear up and he heaves a gasp that shakes his whole body. Thor watches, one arm unconsciously already on his brother's shoulder. Loki doesn't seem to notice him at first, but then he sees Thor and jerks away with the typical look of disgust. Thor doesn't say anything, just does his best to wait it out, knowing that sometimes Loki feels the need to fill the silence. His arm drops away.

They regard each other for a long couple of minutes. "We should look at those wounds at some point," Thor finally says, breaking his own promise that he would wait for Loki to say something first.

Loki gives a breathy chuckle. "Well aren't you kind," he sneers. "Maybe you should also teach your pet mind reader to control herself as well while you're at it and then we'll be best friends again." Thor regards him and Loki seems to realize he gave something away because his smirk falls and he curses under his breath.

"Did this…..outburst…. have something to do with Jay?" Thor asks.

"You really are as thick as I thought," Loki says with a derisive laugh. "You really can't see that all of this is because of her? That trick pony you have upstairs doesn't even know how to control her dream projections yet. Talk about sad."

"Dream projections?" Thor inquires. Loki scoffs and turns his face away from Thor, having given away something more, all within the past couple of minutes. "Wouldn't they affect all of us, then? Why only you?"

Loki doesn't answer but Thor can hear the truth in his silence. The dream Jaycee was probably having upstairs was a strong enough memory or image for her to accidentally project it and if no one else besides Loki felt it…. well, that only points to one possible conclusion. And in that moment, Thor makes a decision unconsciously. He'll keep this a secret, keep it from Jay, from the Avengers. This stays down here, one less thing for Jay to worry about. If this dream projection affected Loki this badly, he can only imagine how badly it is destroying Jay.

Little does he know.

He leaves Loki there, closed off from him, bleeding from reopened injuries. At the bottom of the stairs, he turns to look one last time at the battered man his brother has become.

"I won't ask you what you saw. I won't let you hurt Jaycee Strong. But I will bring her to you tomorrow. You have my word."

Loki scoffs. "Your word? That's a measly consolation prize."

Thor is silent for a moment. "But will you take it."

"Anything to be rid of her influence."


	6. Unreasonable

Barton wakes up sore, a vicious crick in his neck from having slept on the floor with no pillow. He feels very groggy, like he didn't sleep the full night. Eyes still half-lidded with sleep, he pulls himself to his elbows and sees the crumpled covers of Jay's bed. Last night comes rushing back to him and he sits up fast, looking for Jay's sleeping form on the bed.

She's not there.

Panic starts to creep in but he pushes it down. Even so, he's moving far too fast when he stands on bare feet. He pulls all the covers onto the floor, hoping unreasonably that tiny Jay just got lost in the blankets. He turns a quick circle of the room and then checks the bathroom. Not there. There's no evidence she was in the bathroom, no empty vials, no wet towels, nothing. She wouldn't have made it far; if he's this tired then she's gotta be almost comatose.

He's out into the hallway at a half-run. Clint rounds the corner to the kitchen to find Jay leaning heavily over the island, forearms on the counter, a large cup of coffee in her hands. He skids to a comical stop and she looks up at him with bleary eyes.

"Is this what it feels like to be hungover?" she asks, throat raspy.

Barton pulls a chair up to the island across from her. "You look like shit, kiddo," he says, taking in her messier than normal hair, and the deep dark circles under her eyes. "Almost had me in a panic when you weren't in bed this morning."

"Why thank you," she mumbles but he can hear that the sarcasm is forced and tired, not her usual brand of fierce wit. "Sorry."

They let the silence lapse between them as Barton pours a cup of coffee for himself and resettles onto his stool. Her shoulders are hunched up around her ears protectively and her eyes are unfocused. She looks a little like the way she was when they first met her and that honestly scares Clint because she was very broken before and very unsure of herself. If she's slipping back that direction, he'll put an arrow through whatever reason is causing this. He kind of hopes it's Loki so he can have a little revenge.

"Is everything feeling alright?" he finally asks. She stirs like a dreamer slowly waking from a deep and engaging dream. She shakes her head slightly to clear her mind a bit and shrugs one shoulder noncommittally. He pushes a bit further. "Did the beta-blockers help it at all?"

"I think they cleared up the physical symptoms at least," she says. She doesn't need to tell him that she's still messed up emotionally. He didn't ask her last night what the dream was about but whatever it was, it's rattled her deep. They've been on enough field assignments together now that he knows that if she wants to tell him, she will when she's ready. Almost as if she's reading his thoughts, she gives a small smile and mumbles "Thanks, Barton. It does mean a lot."

"We should go on another midnight mission soon," she says, brightening at the very idea. "I'm sick of wallowing under Avengers house arrest. I need to get out and run down bad guys and bash a few heads together."

"You almost sound like you want to be an Avenger. Careful, Fury will have you in tights if you show him you're enjoying yourself," Barton chuckles. Jay makes a disgusted, disgruntled face at him and mimes shooting herself in the foot.

"You know I don't work for One-Eyed Trench-coat," Jay says, standing up straight and popping her spine as she stretches her arms above her head. "I'll answer to you occasionally but only with great insubordination and copious amounts of sarcasm."

Barton snorts back a laugh. "You got a hold of a dictionary again, didn't you?"

"Best weapon in the world," Jay retorts. "Full of perfect words for witty comebacks and can also be used as a sleep inducing device if you read too much or need to club someone over the head. My kind of multipurpose tool."

Barton chuckles. "Want to go spar for a while until everyone else gets up? Normally you like a good beating to flush chemicals out of your system."

"Don't you mean beat-down?" Jay says saucily, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I seem to recall that last time we sparred you almost ended up crying uncle. Or was that three times ago?"

"Oh you little minx," Barton growls at her. She swirls the remaining coffee in her cup nonchalantly even though she can see him prepping his muscles for attack. "You like goading people just like Natasha. That's it, no more persuasion classes. From now on we do discipline and obedience classes instead."

"Oh yeah?" she puts one hand on her hip, setting the coffee cup down. "Make me, Feathers."

And just like that a sparring session starts in the kitchen of the condo.

When Tony rounds the corner into the kitchen he is greeted with the sight of Jaycee Strong attempting to stuff Clint Barton's face into the bowl of oranges while he tries to dump sugar in her hair. She grunts something profane at Barton and then sweeps his legs out from under him. Sugar cascades all over them like glitter and the bowl of oranges goes flying as Barton counter grapples. Jay grabs the toaster and slams it into Clint's gut but he manages to clip her with a spoon across the chin. Barton tries to flip himself on top of her to use his size to his advantage but she wriggles away. Her coffee mug crashes to the ground and shatters but neither of them notices.

Barton wrestles an arm behind her back but she head-butts him backwards and the sugar from her hair gets in his eyes just long enough for her to twist out of the arm lock and bash an orange across his face. They're both on their feet on top of the island now and Jay hooks a leg behind his knee, bringing him down to his knees in front of her.

Stark wolf-whistles from the doorway. Jay's gaze shoots up to him. "Sexy," he purrs.

In her moment of distraction, Barton throws a handful of tea bags at her and pounces. They crash off the island, through the barstools. By this time, they've woken the whole house up and Jane, Thor and Darcy are standing in the door, jaws dropped while Natasha watches with an amused smirk. Jay is face down underneath Barton and his weight is putting her at a disadvantage as she struggles to break his hold. He traps one of her arms. "Ready to surrender?" he crows triumphantly as he twists her arm behind her back.

In response, she slams her free elbow back towards his nose. He flinches just enough that she rolls underneath him, breaking his hold. He tries to pin her wrists, but she crosses her forearms and blocks him from getting closer by placing them across his throat. A quick upward motion and she has him gasping for air, and falling backwards. She flares her knees outwards as he falls backwards off his hips and bucks him off. A quick no handed kip and she's on her feet, hands held ready in a boxer's position.

"Ready to surrender?" she mocks.

"Who taught you that one?" Barton gasps, as his body readjusts after the blow to trachea.

"Just made it up right now," Jay says with a shrug and offers him a hand up. They both eye each other warily as he takes her hand to get up, neither trusting the other not to attack again. Standing across from each other as the others come towards them, she looks at him quickly in the eye and whispers, "Thank you. It helped."

He grins back at her and then they are surrounded by Natasha, Jane, Thor, Stark and Darcy. Romanoff nudges him with her shoulder as if to say "like her now?" and Darcy and Jay are rehashing the fight as Tony slings crude jokes around. It almost feels like a normal morning.

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They all end up around the island in the kitchen eating breakfast after they pick up the oranges and sugar and shards of crockery from the destroyed coffee cup. Natasha makes a great omelet and Barton is actually pretty handy with a juicer and in no time, they have fresh orange juice. The atmosphere is less stress-ridden this morning which is nice for a change although Jay does catch Barton sneaking glances at her occasionally to assess how she's doing. She doesn't mind for once.

Jane and Darcy head off first to review equipment, followed by Barton and Romanoff to go clean weaponry and then Tony to find Bruce and build things in Jane's lab. That leaves Jay and Thor sitting at the island, talking about Asgardian plants of all things. Jay drains two more cups of coffee she's so tired after last night and Thor laughs as the caffeine kicks in and she starts talking a mile a minute.

He stays at the island while she cleans the dishes from breakfast, the silence spreading out between them slowly. She keeps tucking errant strands of hair behind her ear as they fall out of her haphazard bun at the nape of her neck. One time when she does it she leaves a soap streak across her cheek which looks oddly endearing especially since she has no idea it's there. When she's finished, she turns to look at him over the island, drying her hands on a dish towel. She catches his expression and raises an eyebrow in quiet question.

"You just look so… domestic," Thor says and it makes Jay laugh. He realizes he hasn't heard that noise out of her much these past days. She cocks her head at him inquiringly then and he knows that she can tell that there is something more he wants to talk to her about, likely even knows the topic.

He sighs, prepping himself but she beats him to it. "I know he wants to see me."

His eyes meet hers and sees something there that he can't place at first. It's like there's another layer to her that is slowly emerging underneath what they see every day. It's hard to know what exactly it is but the more it shows itself, the more deliberate it manifests in her personality.

"May I suggest now, before the others are altered to it?" she says. "The longer we wait, the more that Stark and Rogers will suspect that we are up to something we really shouldn't be." She grins at him, a soft grin, but a mischievous one at that. Just like that she's back to being Jay, as if nothing else was going on with her. It unnerves Thor slightly because he's not quite sure what's going on with her although it doesn't seem malevolent.

She comes around his side of the island and gently takes his hand. She wipes a hand across her forehead, and tucks an errant curl back into her bun. "Come on," she says. She pulls him off the stool and out of the kitchen and they head for the basement stairs.

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Steve's feet pound into the ground as he gains the only hill in the small New Mexico town. The hill is gone is a matter of seconds and he turns a sharp left to start the circuit again. The sun has just risen and he's soaked with sweat from the arid air. He's lost track of the miles he's put in; they're meaningless numbers. He thinks he's done ten laps of the town at this point but he might be underestimating.

He jumps the same pothole he's jumped every lap, landing further than last time, his shoes shredding further as he pushes the miles even higher. His arms pump hard and his hair is slick with perspiration as he passes the gas station again. Peripherally he notices that the station owner watches him pass with a shake of his head. The man watched him in fascination the first couple of times, and then seemed to decide that Steve was off his rocker and lets him keep running.

He's at the hill again and unconsciously her face swims back into his mind. He tries to push it away but something about her is so persistent that he can't even shake her when he's sprinting at his max. Normally a good hard long run like this can clear his mind completely but no matter how many hills he climbs, he cannot rid himself of the thought of Jay.

In his mind's eye, she's mad at him, that cross look that he finds adorable on her face. Her eyebrows creep in and crease at the bridge of her nose. Her arms cross and one hip cocks higher than the other. He can even see an auburn curl slip from her ponytail and drag down in front of her ear. She can flay him open with that look but he finds her mesmerizing at the same time. Frustrated with himself he pushes harder into his stride. Right as he turns towards the gas station again, his shoes rip wide simultaneously and suddenly, Captain America is standing barefoot in the middle of the street.

He looks up to see the store owner looking at him with a sardonic grin. "Women problems?" he asks. Rogers pants in large breaths and looks at the man in part amazement, part confusion. He manages a "yeah" and the gas station owner grins. "That bad?"

Steve lets out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Give you a hint," the man says, cleaning his hands on an oily rag like some wise-man guru from a movie. "The best ones have the most problems."

Rogers considers that for a moment and then nods. "You've got a point there."

"It'll be worth it in the end," the man says with a wink. Steve nods, breathing finally back to normal. It's definitely been an interesting morning. He goes to head back to the condo when he notices that his shoes are little more that flopping pieces of plastic and leather now. The man laughs and motions him over. "I've got some extras in the back."

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When Loki hears the creaking of footsteps on the stairs, he doesn't open his eye immediately, even as the dim lights come on and change the quality of the darkness behind his eyelids. He can hear Thor's angry bear footsteps but can't tell if anyone is with them. His head aches from last night and he really doesn't feel like dealing with his former brother right now. Better to pretend he's asleep and maybe they'll go away. He doesn't give a damn how childish that may be; he wants some peace from this.

There is a presence in front of him, something quiet and considering and small hands gently take his face, cupping it lightly. Maybe he's still dreaming because that sure doesn't feel like it could be real. Not a one of the Avengers would do that.

When that realization strikes him, his eyes fly open and he sees that he's face to face with Jaycee. Her face is a mask, no emotion bleeding through. He recoils in surprise and her hands leave his face. She looks at him with quiet eyes and he vaguely glimpses Thor in the background. Of course she wouldn't be allowed down here on her own. The Avengers are not stupid enough to allow that.

"Well," she says, "I know I'm not pretty but I didn't realize that my face was that hideous to wake up to."

Unconsciously a small smile tugs at his lips and before he can stop it from manifesting, it's there on his face. She sees it and gives him a small smile back. Then Thor steps forward and the moment is lost to tension. But before he can get too far, Jaycee stops him with a gentle hand on his chest.

She looks back up at him over her shoulder. "I know you are here to protect me and I appreciate that. But this is a conversation we need to have alone." Loki watches as they consider each other and then Thor nods to her. The God of Thunder looks at Loki in warning and then backs up, heading for the stairs.

There are no threats, no raised voices or harsh words. Thor has seen something in Jaycee and it has persuaded him; it's as simple as that. Loki is curious despite himself what that something was.

When Thor's footsteps vanish and it's just them, she turns to look at him. She's leaning on one of the support beams, arms crossed loosely over her stomach, grey eyes undemanding but still boring into him. He's still chained to another support beam, his arms behind him as he leans back. This is probably the only time she's ever really looked at him from a higher height since he's sitting.

They don't say anything to each other, just watch each other. Then she pushes off her beam and kneels down at his side. "Have they tended to your wounds?" she asks. Her voice is quiet. He wants to retort sarcastically but something about the way she's looking at him stops the sarcasm from escaping. She's not asking because she's trying to absolve herself of guilt from reopening his wounds the other day. She's asking because ….. he can't put a finger on it. It's not because she is thinking of Sigyn's memories; he can tell when she is.

She reaches a small hand towards him, stopping when she gets close, eyes asking permission. He nods slightly and she gently pushes back the collar of the shirt they've put him in. She doesn't gasp, doesn't give any indication, just slowly runs her calloused fingers softly over his skin, tracing around gashes and lacerations. She looks up at him through thick lashes. "I can help with the biggest ones," she says.

After a moment, he nods and she very gently strips his shirt off. The sleeves stop at his shackles behind his back and he raises an eyebrow at her. "You'll forgive me if I'm not quite ready to be that naïve," she says, cocking her eyebrow right back at him. A deep throaty chuckle escapes him and he sees her eye crinkle at the edges. The flashback of the dream from last night sears through him and he sees Sigyn in front of him for the briefest moment. Then Jaycee is back and looking at him with kindness and questioning.

Both of them remain quiet as she works, cleaning and suturing the wounds she can. She doesn't mention the fact that he flinched ever so slightly when she took out a stitching needle. She just keeps moving. Her touch is strange, foreign and yet familiar. A part of him wants to touch her forearm or her hair as she works quietly on him. He quells it, dismissing it as aftereffects of last night.

When she's done, she rocks back on her heels and wipes her hands off. She straightens to standing and prepares to head upstairs. Without any conscious thought happening a word leaves him, just one. "Stay."

She turns to look back him.

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Steve walks back into the condo feeling a bit better and with new shoes. No body is around when he gets in and he goes searching for anyone he can find. He finds Thor in the living room, sitting on the couch, bent over his hands resting on his knees. He looks worried. Thor looks up when he sees Rogers and gives him a half-hearted smile.

"Have a nice run?" Thor asks. Steve nods but he can see there's something strained in Thor's tense shoulders.

"Did something happen this morning?" Rogers asks. There it is. Thor tenses up slightly.

"No, nothing unusual," Thor says just a little too quickly. Rogers looks around.

"Where's Jay at this morning?" he says as casually as possible. When Thor hesitates it only confirms what he was afraid of.

Thor and Rogers lock eyes. "Damn it, Thor," Steve growls and then takes off for the basement.

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Jaycee walks back towards him slowly and his memory plays tricks on his mind. He sees the hazy outline of Sigyn's wedding dress around her, see pearls in her hair that are not really there. She kneels down in front of him and he can't meet her eyes. He turns his head from her, burning with shame at his weakness, at the desire to care. He's the trickster god. He's selfish. He doesn't care.

But she gently turns his face towards her. "Why did you do it?"

Her eyes are so honest, so undemanding that the answer slips out. "You asked me to." She cocks her head, eyes so much more ancient than her actual age.

"No," she says in that quiet way of hers. "Why did you bring me back?"

The silence feels explosive. He knew what she had meant the first time. Not the reason he plunged the dagger into her heart. The reason she's looking at him now, alive. His voice is husky but the words come out anyways. "Because I failed your soul once in my lifetime and I promised myself I wouldn't do it again." He can't look at her when he says it, expecting a reaction he can't deal with.

But she moves his face back towards hers and he sees tears glittering in her eyes. They are separated by mere inches and he can't cup her face the way she is doing to him. He looks at her, at her parted lips and trembling chin. He leans in.

There is a terrible bang above them and then Steve is hauling Jay away from him, some incoherent scream of rage coming out of him. She tumbles away and rolls to mitigate the fall. He hears Jay scream "Steve, no!" as Rogers' fist swings in a hook toward his face.


	7. Shatter

Loki has to admit that he's never really seen Captain America mad before. It's not pretty.

Briefly, he catches a glimpse of Jaycee trying to rise in the corner where Rogers flung her like a doll. In a millisecond he takes in the red smear under her nose and the already purpling bruises on her face. The he's distracted by Roger's fist coming fast at his face.

The strike never makes impact.

"I said, NO!" Jaycee yells. Both Steve and Loki gape at her but for entirely different reasons.

Jaycee is holding Steve still, on all fours except for the one hand she has flung out towards the two men. Loki can see the strain and bulge of Rogers muscles but Jaycee has him firmly in a telekinetic hold and he won't be moving any further unless she lets him.

Normally Steve would back off, would be so worried about Jaycee that he'd forget about Loki entirely. Some kind of rage has a hold of him though and for long moments he strains against Jay, knuckles only inches from the trickster god's face. Jaycee has a look of pure determination on her face as she holds Steve back. Loki knows in that instant that Jaycee is going to win and the results of this whole encounter are going to upset her terribly. He's surprised to find that not only does he care, but he wants to knock some sense into Steve for putting her in this position.

Slowly, the hulk-madness leaves Rogers and it almost looks as if his conscious suddenly rejoins his body. When his mind catches up, he suddenly steps back and Jaycee gives a grateful gasp and drops her hand, back arching as she gasps for breath. Steve stalks over to her, picks her clean up off the floor by her shoulders and shakes her.

"What the hell was that!" he roars. Jay bites back a shriek of pain as her neck snaps back sharply, giving her whiplash. She grits her teeth hard and shoves one thought at Steve with everything she has. _LET GO!_

The thought is so loud that Loki hears it. In fact, he bets that everyone in the condo heard it as well and within moments they will be overwhelmed by Avengers. Steve staggers back as if she physically hit him and drops her. She hits the ground hard on her knees, knee caps cracking loudly on the concrete floor. She wipes a hand across her face and a smear of blood transfers from her nose to the back of her hand. The movement seems to jar Steve from his stupor and he kneels by her, horror slowly dawning on his face. "Jay…"

"Save it," she spits at him. The venom in her words is enough to make Steve flinch. "I don't need a lecture today, Captain America." She sneers his name, an ugly sort of beauty lining her face as if the hellfire within her is simmering under her skin. "Don't touch me. Stop trying to see goodness that isn't there. I'm not the kind of woman you want." Rogers' face is a mask of shock as realization sets in that she overhead his discussion with Natasha. He wants to reach towards her and tell her to stop being so hard on herself, that she's kind and caring, but the almost murderous look in her eyes stops him short.

She turns on Loki and instead of softening, her eyes glitter like a diamond edged saw. "And you," she practically hisses. Her gaze is a vicious, living thing tearing into him. "How dare you spell me, enchant me. How dare you manipulate me. As if you haven't done that enough in my lives."

There is silence as what she just sets in registers with her own brain. "Oh goddess…," she murmurs, eyes wide and shimmering. At this moment she looks just like Sigyn did on that day when it all changed, beautiful and devastated.

"I didn't enchant you," Loki says softly and even Steve has to look up at the quiet honesty in his voice. Jay shakes her head in denial, face creased in anguish. "I promised you I never would."

Some kind of wounded cry of denial rips from her and Jaycee runs. She pushes past Steve, past Tony who is coming down the stairs followed by Thor. Through Darcy and Jane's concerned faces, past it all and out the sliding glass door. No one can stop her, not Thor's massive strength, not Barton's legitimate concern, not even time itself. She bangs into things but doesn't see them, bruising a dull pain compared to what she feels right now.

Jay launches herself out into the New Mexico afternoon, legs pumping, hair flying wild, water cascading from her eyes.

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Tony surveys the scene facing him the basement with cool detachment. He finds his sarcasm has deserted him, his mouth too dry for a witty comment. He's seen many things in his life but he's never quite seen the level of devastation as he just did on Jay's face. He considers her almost like a quirky, adopted daughter and if this is how parenting feels, then he never wants to have kids. Never.

The tension is thick in the basement. No one has moved to unchain Loki although they can see he's bleeding again. There is evidence that Jay was bandaging him up before she ran out. Whatever the circumstances right now, Stark secretly hopes that the result helps Jay. He knows that that may mean that they have to unchain Loki, something none of the Avengers want to do but if they can figure this out with Jaycee still in one piece instead of shattered, then he's willing to do it for her.

"What is going on here," Natasha's voice is frigid, glacier ice in its purest form. She's not just directing the question to Loki. She skewering Steve as well.

"It's my fault," Thor says. "There is some kind of strange and unearthly connection between Loki and Jaycee and for better or worse, both of them had asked to see each other."

"And you didn't think to consult the rest of us?" Steve's voice is beyond belligerent. Everyone is looking at him in a startled way, like they didn't really believe that Captain America had this capacity to be brutal in him. It's against his nature. Then again he's never been head over heels for a Vanir mind-reader princess before either.

"Well for better or worse, they have a connection, and leaving him down here in chains doesn't help her." Thor retorts. Barton and Thor make eye contact and both realize in an instant that the dream the other night affected both Jay and Loki.

"What are you two doing, pretending you're Psych?" Tony asks, unfolding his arms. "Want to share your little mind meld revelation with the rest of us?"

Natasha looks at Barton and then Thor. "What's going on?"

Thor sighs. "The other night when I was on guard duty down here, Loki woke up screaming from a nightmare. It had something to do with Jay and her abilities but I didn't understand it until I realized that the reason Agent Barton had been up early in the morning was because he had been sleeping with Jay the other night."

Banner chokes on his mug of coffee. "What did I say?" Thor asks as Stark guffaws in the corner.

"Improper Earth slang," Barton says, picking up the threat of the conversation. "I found Jay the other night in the bathroom after she had a nightmare. She wasn't doing too well and I've been on missions with her enough to read the signs of her insomnia."

"There's more to it though," Romanov says, folding her hands and looking at Clint. "You're not saying everything, Clint. We've known each other too long. What's going on with Jay?"

Barton rubs a hand across his jaw. "Jay has been out on missions with me lately. We've noticed that her responses to certain situations are…. Off. She asked me not to tell you and I'm sorry but I'm going to respect that. She did promise me to tell you at some point but that's her job, not mine."

"That's not vague or anything," Stark mumbles. "So what are we doing with Horns?"

"I'm sitting right here," Loki says, an eyebrow quirked.

Steve's face turns an angry red. "We could send him back to Asgard, right?" Banner says, still trying to wipe coffee off his shirt. Natasha puts a restraining arm on Steve. Even if the other Avengers can joke about this, Steve is still pissed at Loki and that isn't going to go away with a few well-placed quips.

"There's got to be some kind of galactic prison somewhere in the Nine Realms," Barton says conversationally.

"Still here," Loki says.

Thor chuckles softly to himself. "I'm pretty sure he isn't really in any shape to escape past six Avengers." Loki scowls at him. "With Jay here, I'm sure we can keep tabs on him. She can probably keep a tab on his mind anyways to make sure he doesn't leave. There's no reason to keep him locked up in this cell when he's not strong enough to get past us." Loki's gaze is murderous on Thor and seeing this, Tony agrees.

"Thunder Dunder Head is right," he says. "Loki isn't the biggest threat right now and we're more than capable of dealing with him. Last time he had an army and this time he has diddly so I'm pretty sure keeping him under house arrest will help."

"Are you serious?" Steve growls. "You can't seriously be thinking of letting the trickster god wander free in this house! Jaycee is in enough danger as it is."

"From what, arguing suitors?" Tony asks and Rogers flushed crimson in embarrassment. "Tyr hasn't been spotted in months, and no one from Warren Biochemical has come knocking, trying to get Jay back. She's surrounded by super humans. She's the safest she's ever been in her life and Loki isn't a threat as much as he is an annoyance. Whether or not you like it Spangles, Jay and Loki are connected and I would rather see her work this out with us supporting her than at some other date in the middle of the next war we stumble into."

"That's a long speech for you," Loki says, eyebrow raised at Stark.

"Hey, let's be clear," Tony says. "We're doing this for Jay. She's been through enough in her young life and she doesn't need you messing with her head. But for better or for worse, she needs to sort this thing out with you to have any peace. If that means unchaining you and working with you, I'm willing to do it."

"Stark, that's madness," Rogers says, marginally calmer. "Barton just told us Jay is hiding something from us, and you are suggesting we unchain the one person who aggravates her more than anyone else?"

"Are you sure she aggravates her, or you?" Natasha says quietly. Steve's face goes white as he looks at the rest of the Avengers, realizing they are in agreement but not with him. "I told you you were too close," Natasha murmurs.

"I can't believe this," Steve mutters. He turns to look at Loki, still chained and bleeding. "You may have them fooled, but not me. You don't really care for her. She was right about enchanting her you twisted bastard," Steve spits.

Shocked by his animosity, the Avengers don't say anything which means it is quiet enough for them to hear Loki's raspy reply.

"If I don't really care for her, then why did I go to Hel for her?"

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In all the time she has been chased and experimented on and so tired her bones creak, Jaycee Strong has never ever broken down so utterly. Sure, she's cried, but it's never been when anyone is looking. She iced over her heart a long time ago and kept it locked in a bullet proof box, chained shut with iron and boobytraps. But it doesn't mean she's emotionless. She knows how to pull herself through, to keep the anguish away when she's hurting or in a dire situation. But what she has never known is how to control this raging confusion and grief when she has a semi-normal life.

She runs like she's never run before, perversely grateful she was wearing loose fitting capris and not jeans. Her wide neck cropped t-shirt twists around her tank top but she doesn't care, doesn't give a damn how she looks. Her hair came undone but it never flies into her face, such is her speed as she blows across the tarmac. She left the town behind a long time ago, possibly hours, although it may be seconds. There is nothing in front of her eyes, just sky and ground and the impossibly loud beat of her heart beat in her head.

Her breathing is labored, tired and clogged and shaking as she sobs out weeks worth of frustration, confusion and grief. She cares, goddess be damned, she cares. She might even like Loki more than she should. She might be carrying around pieces of Sigyn with her. She might be more Vanir than human. She wants to badly to hit something.

Her shoes pound hard into the pavement, the heat roiling up into her face to send beads of sweat creeping down her cheeks. The midday heat is excruciating and soon she's drenched in sweat but she doesn't stop. She knows, in the rational part of her mind that she can't outrun this. Doesn't mean she isn't going to try her damnedest.

She's been running along this old highway in the New Mexico desert for a while now, only a few cars passing her occasionally. She's drenched with sweat and nasty blisters have formed on her feet but she refuses to stop. She knows if she stops moving that her brain will start thinking again and she doesn't want to think. Even the brief flickers of memory make her want to hurl so she plows on, calves screaming, sun burning her face.

She might have broken ribs from when Steve threw her. There are bruises on her shins from doorways in her haste to leave the condo behind. The injuries are a dull, muted throb in the back of her consciousness; they don't matter right now although she will be stiff for days after this. No physical pain can match what she is feeling right now, the depth of the pain that she is going through. The blood is dried in thin streams on her arms in the heat, her face purple with bruises and her hair is stiff with salt. None of it matters, not one bit of it. All that matters right now is pushing her body so hard that the physical outweighs the emotional. If she gives in to the emotional before she's exhausted herself physically she won't be able to deal with this, won't be able to stop moving through the sobs that are sure to come.

She finally stutters to an exhausted stop as night is falling. They used to call this twilight when they are being poetical about it; the memory of it comes out of nowhere. It's always just been a stupid inconvenience to her in this life when the light deserts the sky and leaves them squinting while they continue to go on with their lives. But Sigyn used to think twilight was such a beautiful word, so smooth and lyrical. Loki used to laugh at her for it, saying that she would make an enchanting scholar-queen one day when she took the throne. Jay's thoughts falter on the word enchanting.

He hadn't enchanted her.

She'd wanted him to close those few inches to her lips, she can't deny that.

Jay sinks to her knees, in the middle of the deserted highway in the New Mexico desert and sobs into her own hands. She can't go any further; everything hurts physically and she's at her end. The emotional rips through her like shards of glass. Can it ever just end? Can't she get it right for once? What is so wrong about her having a normal life, a job she likes, a hobby to pursue and someone to come home to at night? Apparently that's too much to ask the universe for.

She sobs so hard, her back rounds over her body, making her as small as possible. She cries until there is nothing left, nothing more inside. Jaycee Strong cracks open wide and lets it all out, all the agony, all the remorse, all the longing.

She shatters.

Finally, when she's so drained of grief that she can barely rise, she staggers to her feet and wanders on.

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"Is that her?"

"She looks just like…just like… _her."_

The two scouts crouch on the edge of the mesa, watching the woman who is on her knees in the middle of the abandoned highway in the desert. They look normal from a distance but if you got closer, the hair is longer, the weapons are stranger and the eyes are different. Not quite human.

"We need to get this back to Njordon."

"Wait," the second one whispers. The woman is standing up and in the rising moonlight, her hair glows like bronze. She staggers a bit as if drunk. "We don't know it's her. It could be bait for another trap. We need confirmation that it is her."

"And how to you suggest we get that?!" the first one asks incredulously. "I doubt she's going to demonstrate her telekinetic powers to us. And even then, there are so many super humans on Earth now that it might be a decoy. I didn't trust that Fury character at the peace summit on Asgard. He's the type that would do everything he could to disguise her. They want her as a puppet on the throne. You know that."

The second one sighs. "We'll have to follow her back to their base. If the trickster is there, then it's almost certainly her. He wouldn't fall for a decoy. He was too involved with _her_ when it happened that he wouldn't fall for a decoy. If the trickster is there then we make the move."

The first one sighs. "We need the answers soon. We're running out of time."


	8. Soul Payments

They unchain Loki with mixed feelings and much trepidation.

He is lead upstairs to the spare bedroom located next to Thor's and as far away from Jay's as possible. Barton and Stark fit him with a tracking device around his ankle which the trickster god smirks at but offers no objection. They leave a new set of clothes for him to change into but offer no aid and no medical supplies with which to clean his wounds. Most of them are actually expecting Jay to do that when she gets back but none of the Avengers voice this aloud.

The tracking device tool Stark and Banner about three hours to make. It follows Loki's movements like a regular tracking mechanism would but also dampen magical outbursts. With Thor's help and no small amount of borrowing from Jay's lab, they were able to finalize a design Jay had been working on for magical dampening. Stark is surprised to find that she has gotten so far with the design and how well it works when they have Loki test it. He tries to summon a duplicate and nothing happens. Loki's scowl was enough to make Stark trust the device. After all, he did train Jay and he doesn't expect anything but the best from her.

So Loki is locked in his tower, still bleeding sluggishly. Steve is brooding in the training room, destroying practice dummies at an alarming rate. Jane and Darcy left with Selvig to do some field work tonight and Stark and Banner got so far with the magical dampening device this morning that they have been cooped up in Jay's lab all day working like mad scientists. Barton warned them not to touch anything that looks half put together or Jay would probably string them up when she gets back. He left with Natasha to report in to Fury.

Everyone is worried about the missing semi-Avenger but no one is willing to force the issue this time.

Jay is different now, they can all see it. The way she reacted to Loki and especially to Steve showed the rest of the team one thing for sure. Jay is no longer willing to be backed into a corner and be the quiet little thing she used to be. She knows how to take care of herself and deal with her issues in her own way, even if it's a non-conventional way. They can't judge, being super-humans themselves.

Thor is the only one on look-out duty for her right now. He's sitting on the roof of the condo, looking out into the dark New Mexico desert, waiting for her signal.

As she had rushed out of the basement past them all, she'd brushed past Thor, her small fingers lingering on his forearm for only a moment before she left. It was just enough time for her to whisper the thought to him. _I'll signal you when I'm ready._

Now he's waiting for the signal, although what signal, he doesn't know. He wants to know she's alright, wants to see her smile instead of cry. He can't pretend that he didn't see the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she fled and he's never seen Jay cry before. It's unnerving in a deep way because she has never fallen apart so utterly before and they have been through worse before. Or maybe they haven't. She can clearly take the pain and harshness of life. It seems to be the unexpected softness of words and deeds that undoes her.

He knows just by looking at him that Loki loves her even if the trickster won't admit it to anyone, least of all himself.

He can also see that Jay is slowly falling for Loki as well.

And like the hopeless romantic he has turned out to be, Thor wants it to end happily ever after for them, even if he knows that can never be the way it all ends.

He sighs, looking out on the stars that are so different from what he is used to seeing on Asgard. A flicker of light catches his eye in the distance and he straightens. A brilliant flame arches upwards into the night, miles away, only visible due to the shear flatness of the desert. It's definitely not natural. Thor stands up, hammer already in hand and swings it round, gaining momentum. He launches off into the night towards Jay's signal.

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Jay is so tired her fingers keep slipping which is not good because she's trying to light her makeshift flare and that means she keeps burning her fingers. They are blistered and raw by the time she manages to light to small fire on the end of the tree branch.

Once the fire moves to the tinder she's wrapped around the end with the remains of her shoe laces, she throws it high into the air and pushes it up into the night telekinetically. It arches up into the night. She hopes Thor is not too thick to think it's just a lightning bug.

She sways on her feet, numb to the world. Without realizing it, she topples over in exhaustion. She notices that the shrub bush is now sideways. Odd. Then nothing else as she lets go, too tired to stay awake anymore.

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Loki paces the room. It's twenty-two paces length wise by thirty-one width wise. Pretty soon it will have Loki-sized grooves marred into the floor. He's been around the room too many times to count now.

He knows there is no way out, the Avengers are far too clever for that. Besides, although he's never admit it, his body aches and he can't seem to stop the bleeding from some of the wounds on his sides. Apparently whip marks don't heal fast. How tedious.

A vainer man than Loki would care that his skin is now marked and scarred. Loki could care less. His mind and not his body are what keep him going forward when plots need to be made. He knows his face must look grotesque with the small needle scars from the thread on his lips. Those are the only ones he doesn't need to see everyday. While he knows he could have borne a thousand tortures for eons if he had to, the ones who sewed his mouth shut knew that that act would send the clearest message to anyone who encountered him after. Silver Tongue, the trickster god, had been silenced by someone. Even if the Nine Realms don't know who did it to Loki, the message is clear; there is someone out there that relishes ironic torture.

He paces, trying to put all the pieces together, trying to sift through the memories to find out just what is going on. One, there is a One-handed, homicidal god of Asgard on the loose with a vendetta against the former queen of Vanaheim. Two, Jaycee has become a very strong young woman who may be capable of leading a kingdom. And three, Hel knew far more than she was letting on.

The memory comes unbidden to him.

" _What would you pay for her soul?"_

 _Hel gazes down at him from her throne of bones, a considering smirk on her face. "She really must be precious to you, trickster dear, if you are willing to bargain with me. You more than anyone understands the price that I am going to ask you to pay in the end. So why do you meddle with this mortal girl who is only going to die again in eighty years if she's lucky. So far that doesn't seem to be the case. I wager she's back here five years later."_

 _Loki looks at the Queen of Niflheim, the Lady of the Dead. Half of her face is a gorgeous map of feminine features. A sculpted brow, full eyelashes, an ice blue eye, dark black lustrous curls. The other half is what rivets and terrifies the Nine Realms. Rotting teeth grin through dead, grey flesh, with a sunken eye hole gazing sightlessly out under white hard brittle as old paper. Hel is half dead, half alive, always in between, a transitionary goddess who is spiteful and capricious._

" _What would you ask for her soul?" Loki asks._

" _What no bargaining?" Hel laughs, her voice sounding like cockroaches skittering out of the light. "Surely you don't think you'll pay whatever price I ask. That's so unlike you and no fun." She pouts, one hand petting the fur of a hound. The dog is ferocious looking, with dark black fur, coming off in patches, one white and one red eye above a slobbering muzzle._

" _Do you have a game in mind, my lady?" Loki asks, the last part turning sarcastic despite his intentions of being sincere. A life is riding on this conversation and if he's honest it's not a life he wants to bargain for. He just wants the life back. He owes Sigyn and… and… he owes_ her _that much. He keeps telling himself that this is to repay the debt he owes Sigyn but somewhere in the blackness of his heart, he knows this is not for Sigyn's forgiveness. Not even for Thor's or… or Jaycee's forgiveness._

 _It's about him forgiving himself._

 _He forces that thought down as soon as it surfaces. No, this is about Sigyn and Jaycee, not himself. When he realizes that means he's not being the selfish persona he's been careful to cultivate since the fall of Vanaheim, he forces himself to look at Hel to forget his inner turmoil._

 _Hel considers him closely. "You really are desperate, aren't you?" she says in wonder. "This flimsy little Vanir woman means that much to you?"_

Shocked out of his memory, Loki realizes what Hel had said. She had known Jaycee was Vanir. How could she have known that? Previously Hel had always called Jaycee "the mortal" but there was that one moment when she slipped and called Jaycee a "Vanir woman". What did Hel know; how did she have knowledge of what had occurred in Asgard before the battle on the Bifrost?

Loki dives back into the memory, suddenly hungry to see if there is more there despite the pain that the memory is going to put him through next.

" _You care for her," Hel muses aloud. "But you don't want to be near her for some reason."_

 _Loki grits his teeth, hating how Hel can see his emotions on his face. It's something that happens to all who enter her throne room. There is a spell embedded in the walls, an old, ancient, spell that compels honesty from those in the room with the Queen of the Dead. Since Loki is so used to lying with words, the spell works on his body language and expressions, making it easy for Hel to gauge his reaction even if he doesn't give it away with words._

" _You will have to suffer for her, of that there is no doubt," Hel says to herself, one bony hand, the desiccated one, toying with the ears of her hound. "A thousand lashes will suffice for that I think. And you will be returned to the living, since the All-Father would be mildly displeased if I kept you here. Rules of the Realms and all. But how to further this game?"_

 _She looks at Loki, waiting for him to supply to answer. When he doesn't answer, she pouts again. "She's really turned you into a stick in the mud, hasn't she?" Hel scowls, the expression macabre on her half gorgeous, half skeletal face. "Fine, then, but you can't complain when I tell my captain to deliver the punishment."_

" _Do you accept whatever price I will enact for the soul of one Jaycee Strong?" Hel asks him, the childish goddess now gone, replaced by the queen of the dead. "Your word will be binding until the end of time?"_

 _Loki knows he can withstand torture, knows he can endure the punishment she will mete out. He swallows audibly, playing his part. "I swear to honor the price you ask for the soul of Jaycee Strong."_

 _Hel's half beautiful lips curl into a cruel smile. She snaps her fingers and a motley array of skeletal guards assemble around Loki, pulling him up and binding his hands behind his back. He suffers the indignity with cool, detachment, leveling his gaze on Hel, meeting her gaze. That is when he sees the triumph there that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with something else._

 _As his unease grows Hel begins to dictate his sentence._

" _I will release the soul of Jaycee Strong from Niflheim for one year in return for one thousand lashes of the bone-flaying whip across the back of the trickster god of Asgard," she says, triumph making her features twist in the torchlight. Loki begins to protest but the guards haul him backwards. "At the end of one year, her soul is returned to me unless the trickster completes one simple task."_

 _She lets the suspense build as Loki rages at his own stupidity. Failing to set his own terms was a mistake he will pay for. "Unless the trickster betrays Jaycee Strong to Tyr the One-handed."_

" _No." His denial is a pained gasp. He could not have imagined this, this punishment that is purgatory and betrayal of the deepest kind, to both Jaycee and to Sigyn. "NO!" he hollers as Hel starts to laugh maniacally. He almost succeeds to breaking through the guards but they shackle his ankles and slip a tight collar around his neck. When he tries to yell again, he finds that the collar is spelled as a silencer and his voice is useless with it on._

" _Loki must betray Jaycee Strong to Tyr within one years time or both her and his soul are forfeit to me. Thus, it shall be done," Hel laughs, slicing the pad of her hand with her bone knife. Her blood seeps from the wound to the cobbled bone path below and a deep moan echoes through the throne room. "So it is done." Hel grins at him, ice blue eye laughing on the beautiful half of her face._

 _The guards are working hard to haul him away now, he's struggling to get to her so much. "Oh, and one last thing," Hel says, walking the length of the throne room to take Loki's chin in her hand. "You will not speak to her of this bargain, you will not speak to anyone of my terms and she will not be able to access these proceedings in your mind." She kisses Loki on the nose. The guards pull him away. "Oh, and find a way to seal his mouth that causes him pain," she laughs._

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It takes Thor a couple of minutes to find Jay in the darkness. Her flare lasted longer than he'd thought it would but he can fly relatively fast and is able to cover miles in moments. He's surprised at how far she got in one day. He must have covered over forty miles before landing.

He searches the ground, the flares snuffed out by now and finally spots her lying on the ground in the weak starlight. At first he is worried she is injured or dying but when he hurriedly kneels at her side he sees that she is merely unconscious from exhaustion. She has small cuts on her face and arms and blisters on her bare feet; her shoes are shredded so he leaves them behind. He very gently scoops her up into his arms like he would a doll and cradles her against his chest. She stirs slightly and her eyes open to look at him with a tired gaze.

"Good, you saw the tree-branch firework," she slurs and then promptly passes out again.

Despite the situation, Thor has to chuckle to himself. It there is a sense of humor left in her then she's still their Jaycee Strong.

He flies them both back to the condo, taking his time in the pleasant desert evening. She's not injured or dying, like many of the other times he has found her lying on the ground so he flies at a reasonable speed, careful not to wake her. She needs more sleep than she's been getting lately but no attempts at fathering on his end have done any good. She's too much of a firecracker during the day with all her activities and missions and craziness.

He lands at the front door and is careful to be quiet when he enters since it's the middle of the night but the Avengers are up to greet him anyways. He assures them she's okay, just exhausted. They question him from all angles at once, although quietly since Darcy and Jane just got back and went straight to bed. They fuss over her for a moment but when she doesn't stir and Rogers has taken her pulse three times, Stark gently pulls Steve back.

"She'll forgive you, Steve," he says. The use of his real name instead of a nickname makes Steve pause as he fusses over Jay's sunburn and blistered feet. "Let her rest," Tony says, gently pulling Steve away from Jay. He can see how beat up about all this Steve is but mothering Jay will only make her crankier when she wakes up, a fact Steve knows as well as anyone.

Thor carries Jay upstairs, lays her on the bed and tucks her in like a child. When he turns to leave the room, he can't help but glance once more back at her, at the wave of auburn curls and the tiny frame. Maybe she is meant to be a queen but he'll still always act like her older brother and father figure to keep her safe. She deserves that.

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"Did you see that?!"

"Of course I saw it, I'm not blind. Shush you imbecile or he'll find us and fry us with a lightning bolt."

The two scouts watch as Thor lands in on the side of the road and picks up the woman in his arms and then flies away.

"I think that's proof enough," the first one says excitedly. "Surely that means that she's definitely the one."

The second scout is not so overzealous. "We still need to confirm the trickster's involvement. Luckily while you were gushing over seeing Thor for the first time up close, I shot an arrow laced with an atmospheric tracer component on it. We should be able to follow the tracer to wherever they live."

"That's why you're the brains and I'm the muscle," the first one jokes while the second one rolls his eyes. "We're so close!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Even if she is the heir, there's still the issue of getting her home to Vanaheim."

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When Loki surfaces from the memories, he finds himself on his knees in the room upstairs, head in his hands. He deeply underestimated Hel, more than he's ever done before with anyone. It is true what they say about men acting emotionally about women. He was blinded to the deeper game because of his… feelings for Jaycee.

Reliving the memory was painful but also showed him something he had missed at the time. Hel knew that Jaycee was a Vanir, and may possibly have even known Jaycee was related to Sigyn. She has to be sided with Tyr in some way but he cannot fathom why. The one-handed god has not been seen according to Thor for months. No, no, oh by the Norns. _Months._ He only has a year of time as it moves here in Midgard before he has to make a decision. How long has it been? How long was he in Hel's domain?

Desperate for the answers, he flies out into the hallway, probably setting out alarms on all the Avengers smart watches that he's on the move. He almost runs into Thor, who is closing the door to Jaycee's room. He skids to a halt as Thor sees him and then Loki is running towards him, eyes ablaze.

"How long?" he says, grabbing onto Thor's upper arms. Thor looks at him in confusion.

"I just brought her back…" he starts but Loki growls in frustration.

"No, how long since Jaycee came back to you? How long since the Bifrost?" he demands, gritting his teeth together at how slow and stupid Thor can be sometimes.

Thor looks at him like he's grown two horns out of his forehead. "It's been seven months here."

"Seven months," Loki whispers back, mind already working furiously, calculating. "And you haven't seen Tyr?"

Thor's eyes narrow suspiciously. "No," he says, his tone short. "What is going on here, Loki?"

"I'd like to know the same thing," Stark says from the stairwell, arms crossed. Loki looks between the two men, for once wanting to trust them and tell them the truth. But as he tries to force the words out, they stick in his throat like something is crawling its way out of his stomach. He tries harder but starts to choke violently, a hacking motion seizing him and then he nearly collapses. Thor manages to catch him, suspicion turning to concern.

"Brother, what is happening?" Thor asks.

Loki looks between him and Stark. "I wish I knew," he says. And now he only has five months to make to outsmart the goddess of death before he loses both his and Jaycee's souls forever.


	9. The Vanir Resistance

Jaycee Strong hates waking up not remembering the night before.

Make no mistake, she's no drinker and even if she was she wouldn't be a light-weight. At least she hopes she wouldn't be. But she has a history of waking up and not knowing what's going on and it's always been the worst case scenario. She wakes up with that flash of adrenaline and tears through wherever she is like the Tasmanian Devil. It's almost become her mode of operation.

Except when she wakes up this time she doesn't move, just opens her eyes and waits for the memories to return. It's not because she wants to; but this time she forces herself not to react, forces herself to breathe. She can't really afford to have another adrenal attack right now; only Barton knows about her condition and for the time being she wants to keep it that way. Jay tries her best to take deep calming breaths, to let the memories come instead of speeding off to go find someone to beat up.

She's really not all that good at this meditative, Zen thing. How do yoga people do it?

She sits up slowly and the feel of dried salt at the corners of her eyes brings all the memories flashing back to her. She hasn't cried that hard in a very long time. Normally that would make her feel disgusted with herself, for being weak, for giving up but this time it doesn't feel that way. It doesn't feel bad; it feels like someone cleansed her out on the inside. There is bewildering relief there was well and she realizes that she has made a decision, almost unconsciously when it comes to this situation and to the mad trickster god messing around with her life. As good as she feels though, she's not quite sure she can face that decision yet even though she knows that it is the right one to have made.

Idly she looks at the clock on the wall. Seven in the morning. She smiles despite herself; she's finally back on a regular schedule. And it's Monday. Oh goddess she's going to be late for school!

Who thought that such a mundane thing as being late for school could inspire more panic in her than facing down goblins and trolls on a rainbow bridge in space. Man, she is seriously screwed up.

Jay throws the covers away and forces herself to take one more deep breath. Class doesn't start for an hour and she has a thirty minute commute which means with time allocated for bus stops, she has roughly seven point two five minutes to look presentable and pack her bag. Plenty of time.

Jeans on, tank top, then long sleeved shirt. Sneakers? Oh wait those are little more than scraps. Boots? It's cold enough for it. Workouts clothes, notebooks, highlighters, pens all in backpack. Check. Hair? Haha, Jay, that's hilarious.

She rushes out her door, mind and body still out of sync as her backpack slams against the wall leaving a nice scrape on the wall. Her bag bangs into her hip on the rebound and she curses in French as it hits her bruised hip. She's just reaching the top of the stairs when she hears a door open behind her. Not bothering to glance behind her, she yells over her shoulder, "Sorry, Thor, late for school, can't talk, gotta run!" While she may be saying those words, anyone listening would only hear "sorrythorlateforschoolcanttalkgottarun."

Her boot is on the top step when the reply slides across her, "Poison class today?"

Several things happen all at once. Jay turns to look over her shoulder with wide eyes to glimpse Loki standing, hip against the door of the guest room, arms crossed, regarding her with a smirk. At the same time, her clumsiness kicks in, the weight of her backpack shifts, her boots slide on the stairs and with the grace of a bull in a china shop, Jaycee Strong tumbles headfirst down the stairs.

By the time she reaches the bottom of the stairs she has exhausted every curse word she knows in every language she knows with some made up ones thrown in and the entire household has been awoken by her klutziness.

At the bottom of the stairs she looks back and up at Loki in surprise as Barton and Romanoff run in from the kitchen, wondering what had caused the infernal din that sounded like a herd of elephants falling off a waterfall. Jay splutters a bit, her pencil case jabbing into her back as Barton pulls her to her feet. "You, you… you let him out?" She practically shrieks.

"We thought it the better situation," Barton says, almost meekly, cowed by the half-crazed school-girl, secret agent persona Jay is throwing off.

"Well, jeez, that proved very good for my health!" Jay rants. "Not even awake seven point two five minutes and he's caused me to fall down the stairs and added to my bruise collection!"

"Seven, point two five…?" Barton asks, but Jay cuts him off.

"Arrrrgggh! Now I'm going to be late for school!"

She takes off towards the kitchen to get to the front door. Barton looks at Natasha. "She's worried about missing school? Most kids love to miss school."

Jay almost makes it to the door before Tony blocks her path. "Whoa, sexy schoolgirl, cool your jets. It's Christmas break from school."

Jay looks at him in confusion. "I don't follow."

Tony gives an exaggerated sigh. "What have we raised, people, a hick town girl?"

"Jay, honey, there are no classes over Christmas break," Jane says, coming around the corner and gently pulling a bewildered Jay away from Tony. "Remember, you get a few weeks off after finals?"

"I do?" Jay asks.

"Seriously, did you raise her in the barn?" Tony complains. Jane shoots him a glare that snaps his mouth shut comically.

"She's a good student, back off Stark," Jane snaps and Tony puts his hands up in mock surrender. She turns back to Jay, whose brain is slowly catching back up to the present day. "You've got three weeks off, remember? And we've got that party to attend. The Astrophysics Banquet?"

It all comes rushing back to Jay and she groans. "The one you told me I have to dress up for?"

"That's the one," Jane says cheerfully and Jay wants to run out the door and go to the lab even though school is on break. Anything to get out of this banquet.

"A banquet?" Tony says, enthusiasm coming off him in sickening waves. "Astrophysics? Ooooh that sounds perfect, I'll just-"

"NO!" Jay cuts him off. He pouts at her. "No, you are not inviting yourself. This is for Jane and Selvig's work."

"And yours," Jane reminds her and Jay flushes. She mumbles something under her breath.

"Don't mumble, it's unseemly," Tony says, playing the part of etiquette mistress. Jay glares at him. "Speak up dear," he grins at her.

Jaycee sticks her tongue out at him. "I don't need to go, Jane, really, you and Darcy and Selvig can go with out me."

"Oh, no, you aren't weaseling your way out of this," Jane says, dragging Jay back into the living room where all of the Avengers have been eavesdropping. "You are getting dressed up and helping us present our work."

Jay grumbles and curses under her breath. "I'd rather chain myself to a brick and jump into the ocean."

"What a waste that would be," Loki says from the stair well in the same pose as he was at the top of the stairs. Eight scowls turn his way, one for each Avenger, plus Jane and Jay. "Okay, my opinion is not needed. Duly noted."

"And what is the meaning of this?" Jay asks, rounding on the Avengers. "You unchained him after yesterday? Isn't that a lot like rewarding bad behavior?"

"Turns out he's a good counterbalance to Dr. Morose," Tony says, nodding a head at Bruce who looks put upon at being called Dr. Morose. "That and to be honest, he's right in the fact that he's not the biggest threat to you. Tyr is."

The angry color drains out of Jay's face. "You've heard something about Tyr?" Her voice is quiet, not quite fearful, but definitely cautious and guarded. Charged with keeping an eye on Loki, Barton notes that the god's eyes sharpen at the mention of Tyr.

"We got word from Fury two days ago before the basement exploded with activity yesterday and you went ultrarunner on us," Tony says and Jay flushes in embarrassment. "Tyr has been spotted in numerous confirmed reports all of a sudden in the past weeks, once on Earth, and twice by Fury's agent on Vanaheim."

"Fury has an agent in Vanaheim?" Jay asks incredulously. "Bastards got his hands everywhere," she mutters to herself. "Why now?"

Stark gestures to Barton who unwillingly picks up the story. "Seems that there is some kind of insurgency happening on Vanaheim. A local guerilla group has been terrorizing the capital city and trading posts across the realm. They claim… they claim to be supporters of the royal family. Tyr showed up right after they hit a trade depot near the palace."

Jay's breath stills for a moment. Barton watches Loki's face but not a flicker of emotion crosses his features. "We don't' know if…," Barton starts but Jay holds up a hand.

"This seems like it's going to be a lot to take in, I just ran over forty miles last night, I fell down the stairs and I have not yet had my morning espresso. I'm getting coffee and then we can chat." Without a backward glance, Jay drops her backpack and makes a beeline for the kitchen.

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There is a moment of silence in the living room before Tony looks at Jane and asks, "She really didn't know about Christmas vacation?"

Jane rolls her eyes at him.

"I'll go make sure she doesn't cut herself on the Keurig machine," Barton says and heads off to the kitchen to talk to Jay. "Knowing her she'll find a way to open an artery with a K-cup."

"So what's this about Vanaheim?" Loki asks nonchalantly when Barton is gone.

"Why so eager to know?" Steve shoots back, distrust creasing his face.

"Hey, Testosterone, cool it," Stark says. "We agreed to let him go knowing that Tyr was spotted. We all agreed that Loki wasn't in league with Tyr since he's been enjoying our hospitality for the two weeks."

Loki snorts at the use of the word "hospitality." Rogers gives him a filthy look and Banner looks at Loki disapprovingly. "So defensive," Loki admonishes.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be," Natasha warns the trickster god. "We unchained you because we knew that a sighting of Tyr on Vanaheim means that he's ready to make another play that will most likely involved Jay. We haven't had time to brief her on the full situation so she has no right to trust you in any way right now. We know you have no love for Tyr."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Loki inquires, eyebrows raised.

"There abouts," Tony says, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Now, Spitfire and Birdboy will be back shortly and she's going to want to deal with a full debriefing so she can get her feet back under herself. So I suggest we discuss other pressing matter."

"Such as?" Rogers asks.

Tony gives a gleeful grin and the Avengers brace themselves for his newest quip.

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Unholy mother of Samarkand, it never ever slows down. Jay may have given them the excuse that she needed coffee but what she really needed was air and a moment to calm down. She could feel her blood pressure rising and knew without a doubt that she had to get out of there and get herself pulled back together before she has to deal with this new situation and the fact that Loki is walking around her home seemingly unfettered. Ugh. That and she really really does actually need coffee.

Jay slams the Keurig machine around, cursing gods and manipulative friends and the fact that this stupid, cursed machine won't brew her much needed espresso faster!

"Whoa, dude, don't go all She-Hulk smash on it, I want a cup too," Barton says as Jay raises a fist to hammer down on the machine. She scowls at him but lowers her fist and glowers at him.

"Don't go telling me what to do Feathers, I'm not in the mood," she broods. "Zip it while my coffee brews or I might have to rearrange your nose."

Barton mimes zipping his lips shut and shrugs his shoulders up and down, pretending to try and talk which earns him a semi-smile from Jay. She relents, "Okay, okay, sorry that's the caffeine addiction talking."

"No worries, kiddo, just make sure you make mine strong too," Barton grins.

Jaycee pours her cup and inserts another K-cup for Barton, switching the mugs as she does so.

"So are you going to tell them?" Barton asks after a long silence as the coffee maker chugs away.

Jay sighs heavily through her mouth in frustration. "Can't I have a cup of coffee first?!" She implores the invisible gods in the ceiling, arms wide. She looks at Clint. "You know why I don't want to. It might be fine, curable even and I don't want to worry the rest of them needlessly."

"Kid, this is your life we're talking about and if you don't tell the rest of them about this adrenal disease, they won't know how to help you if you have another episode."

Jay looks at him. "They are great about helping me with anything I need. But, Clint, I'm not helpless. I don't need to run to the Avengers every time something isn't working for me. I will tell them at some point but I want to try and figure this out myself first. I know they'd want to help but I don't want to have to rely on that all the time."

Barton gives her a wry look. "You're too damn stubborn for your own good."

"Wonder who taught me that," she retorts with a pointed look.

Barton leans back against the counter in defeat. "Well if you refuse to tell them at least talk to Bruce," Clint requests.

Jay's brow creases a bit in confusion. "He seems to really have a lid on the whole Hulk thing. He might be able to help you control your emotional responses." Barton takes the mug of coffee Jay offers him. "You know you can trust Bruce to keep it to himself, he's a good guy like that."

"I know," Jay admits. "But he worries the most, ya know? I just don't want to be the Avengers Charity Case forever."

"You won't be," he says, bumping his elbow against her shoulder in a companionable gesture. "We require Avengers to pull their weight, wear ridiculous costumes and have funny nicknames."

Jay snorts. "Those the only requirements?" She asks drily.

"Yep," Barton says, slinging an arm around her shoulder. She winces when it hits her new bruises from her stair adventure this morning. "Come on, let's go discuss what's going on with the rest of our Avenger pals."

Jay pulls out from under his arm and gives him a very critical look. "No withholding information, Agent Barton," she says a serious expression on her face. "You try and protect me from anything and I'll make sure Darcy knows every dirty little secret you have."

"You wound me," Barton says, falling backwards mockingly, a hand on his chest. He is slightly worried that she'll carry out that threat and if there's anyone who scares him more than Jay herself, it's when Darcy and Jay collude. "Duly noted, ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me," Jay punches him in the arm.

"Yes ma'am," Barton says.

"You looking for another round with the oranges?" Jay asks, eyebrows going high, a challenging look in her eye. He can almost see her considering how to best humiliate him with kitchen implements.

"Come on kid," Barton says, weaseling out of answering by taking her wrist and towing her back into the living room to meet with the rest of the Avengers about this new development.

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"Finally!" Tony crows when Barton and Strong finally reenter the living room. "We were having a very intense conversation-argument and we need the Hawk's professional opinion."

"Shoot," says Clint, dropping onto the couch next to Bruce.

"Well," Stark says, the dramatic flair winding up in his voice. "Miss Political Science Major and I have been having a major disagreement."

"It's not a disagreement if I'm right," Darcy interrupts from the floor where she's lounging on her back, knees in the air.

"Ahem," Stark says, peeved at being interrupted mid-presentation. "Anyways….," he drawls, drawing out the suspense. "I argue that Steve is Edward and Loki is Jacob obviously since Steve is mister perfect and Horns has that bad boy vibe but Knit-Hat-Intern says that Steve is Jacob and Loki is Edward since Steve is clearly what is good for Jay while Loki as Edward is totally not."

Barton scoffs. "Darcy is totally right; Steve's Jacob and Loki is Edward!"

"Thank you!" Darcy says from the floor, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Wait, wait, wait, you can't be that stupid," Tony says.

Jay looks at Jane who shrugs. "I'm just as lost as you."

"They're discussing Twilight," Natasha says dismissively. When Jay and Jane continue to keep looking at her like she's not speaking English Nat rolls her eyes. "Don't worry it's trivial."

"Trivial!" Stark, Barton and Darcy squawk indignantly at the same time.

"I am beyond confused," Bruce says, scratching his head.

"Avengers movie night!" Tony says excitedly.

Everyone else groans. Tony now looks put upon. "Well I see how it is," he says dismissively.

"Can we focus, please," Natasha asks. Everyone settles down to discuss the situation on Vanaheim and the new appearances of Tyr.

"Does he really need to be here?" Steve says, angrily motioning with his head towards Loki. "We agreed to let him out but I see no need to get him involved with this new situation."

"He stays," Jay says calmly before anyone can interject. "Whatever is going on is bigger than me and he bears just as big of a grudge towards Tyr as any one of us. He also is one of the only ones here who has actually been on Vanaheim. He'll be able to give us a better idea of what the situation is on the ground because he'll know locations and names we don't."

Rogers catches her eye and begrudgingly nods. They look at each other for a tension-filled moment before Jay breaks eye contact and turns to Barton and Natasha.

"What's been going on? No leaving anything out," she says and she sounds like a military strategist waiting to be briefed on the situation by her advisors. Clint, always keeping on eye on the trickster, notes that this makes Loki smile a small smile to himself.

Natasha takes up the job of explaining. "We received word that Tyr had been spotted two days ago on Vanaheim. It seems that there is an insurgency brewing on Vanaheim, not funded or aided by Tyr. In fact they seem to have up there attacks since Tyr's appearance so it seems unlikely they are in league with him." She looks up at Jaycee. "The insurgents are rebelling in the name of the royal family. They claim to have proof that the heir to the Vanir throne is alive. They know about you Jay, some way or another and might make a move at you soon. They,.. they are saying they want to put you on the throne as the rightful Queen of Vanaheim."

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"Down!" Njordon yells.

He roughly pulls one of his operatives down underneath him as the beams above give way, flames crackling above them in the street as flaming arrows bombard them. The two men roll out of the way as the tavern sign above them gives way and crashes to the ground.

Njordon gets up quickly, hauling his comrade to his feet. "Move!" he yells. "Get the rest of them out of here!" The man runs away, quickly pulling fallen comrades to their feet.

Njordon spots Syvlk, his lieutenant helping one of the woman warriors out from under a stack of flaming crates and moves to help him. "What are your commands, general?" Syvlk yells over the burning inferno sweeping the city around them.

Njordon looks around, a quick peripheral sweep. "Call them back," he orders through gritted teeth. "We need to keep our people safe until…,"

"Do you really think Bjern and Kaiton will succeed?" Syvlk asks, hauling the woman up and across his back. They take off away from the source of the flaming arrows. "You know this will all be for nothing if they can't bring her home."

Njordon's eyes bely his anxiety and distress even if his tone is confident. "We'll send them reinforcements to back them up. Yourself, Filon, and Remorag will set out as soon as possible to aid them. They have a potential match but are waiting to confirm before their approach." He pushes Syvlk ahead of him with the wounded woman and takes a look back at the remains of the city the resistance once called their base. "They'll succeed. They have to."


	10. Queenly Operation

Jay regards Natasha. "Okay let's be objective," she says, sliding into researcher-Jay, the version where she is in control and smart. At least that's how she tries to be. "Are we absolutely positive that I am the only heir to the throne of Vanaheim? We have no idea what Sigyn did once she vanished from Asgard. There could be other potential heirs."

Natasha gives her a critical don't-be'naïve-look. "It's hardly likely that there is that would be a good fit when compared to you. I'm given to understanding that the Vanir like having rulers strong in magic on the throne. Your telekinesis and telepathy are a pretty strong argument."

"Could there possibly be another living heir?" Jay persists. "Surely Sigyn had siblings."

"It's highly unlikely," Thor says. Jay just catches the look of shame that flashes through his eyes before he looks away from her critical gaze.

"You know it refers to you," Natasha is saying but Jay's focus is on Thor which brings the rest of the room's attention to land squarely on the god of thunder. She narrows her eyes and he tries not to meet her eyes without being too obvious about it but Thor has never had a good poker face.

"Don't make me read your mind, Thor," Jaycee warns, the big Asgardian looking at her with trepidation. "I know I'd rather hear it from you than see something you don't want me to see."

Thor, god of Thunder, actually bites his lip in consideration, looking at her with a haunted gaze that has Jay reeling. She expected it to be bad, shocking, but his reaction says that it's something he never wanted her to know.

"If you won't face your shame, I will," Loki says to his former brother. His eyes lock with Jay's, something malicious there, like he's going to relish hurting her with this new revelation. "The royal family was assassinated less than a year after Sigyn disappeared. She would have been the only survivor if we had known she was still alive."

Jaycee's eyes are wide and horrified but her voice is calm. "By whom?"

"The Vanir royal family was exiled to the Ice Peaks of Vanaheim after Sigyn disappeared," Loki says. "An assassination squad found and slaughtered them, removing any heirs to the throne and resistance to Asgardian rule at the same time."

"Who were the assassins?" Steve asks. Loki gives him a malicious grin and Jay can already hear the answer coming, knows in her bones as if she was there.

"Asgardian high guards in Odin's personal service."

There is a beat of silence and Jay looks at Thor, hiding everything she is feeling in order to verify the facts. "Is it true?" she asks and some of the grief she feels slips into her voice. "Did your father have them assassinated?"

They all note that she avoids saying "my family." Jay looks slightly grey, as if her ebullience is fading as they watch. Thor looks at her and nods slightly. She curls her arms around her stomach, pulling herself in close.

"There's no doubt of it," Loki is the first one to speak. "Whether or not you accept it, you are the queen of Vanaheim."

Jaycee looks at him, something inside of her still denying it with everything she has in herself but he can start to see resolve sink in. "Is Vanaheim strictly a monarchy?" she asks.

Loki raises an eyebrow. "I don't see why you need to clarify that."

"If Vanaheim was open to a new form of government or a different ruler…," Jay trails off. All the Avengers are looking at her with varying degrees of incredulity. "You can't seriously believe that I would make a queen," Jay says a bite in her voice. "I can do anything I set my mind to but I have no desire to rule a people that I don't know. They would best be served by someone who knows Vanaheim, who can meet the needs of the Vanir people. I am not that person."

"You sure can make arguments like a political leader," Tony weasels in.

"That's not my point," Jay scowls at him. "I have never even been to Vanaheim, know nothing about Sigyn except what I see in memories and can barely keep my life in order for me, let alone for an entire realm." Her voice creaks at the end, unsure and full of self-doubt. She looks at Thor, not wanting to see the scorn in Loki's eyes at her rejection of the throne. "Is there a way to abdicate, to appoint another to rule?"

Thor considers seriously, understanding that she is desperate for a way out. It doesn't matter that he thinks she would make a fabulous queen; she is right about what the Vanir people need. "The Vanir are a very traditional people," he tells her. "They adhere to the old bloodlines, recognizing only the true line of Vanaheim. There have been civil wars on Vanaheim and in other realms due to competing claims to the throne that have decimated the populace of those realms. Maybe they would be willing to let you choose another family to rule but it is more likely that your choice would upset another noble family."

"They would need someone on the throne they could trust to have Vanaheim's interests first and as much as you don't want to hear this, you would be an impartial party specifically because you have not lived among the nobility on Vanaheim," Rogers says. "You may not know the people of Vanaheim but they could trust you to decide fairly."

Jay worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "You all really want a crown on my head that bad?" she attempts but the joke is weak.

"Well it might get tangled in those curls of yours," Tony says, ruffling her hair. She swats at his hand, upper lip curling away from her teeth.

"Would it be possible for Jay to visit Vanaheim, to introduce her to the Vanir people," Bruce speaks up for the first time.

"With the possibility of Tyr being on Vanaheim, I doubt Fury would approve that," Barton snorts and Bruce looks crestfallen. He doesn't speak up often and when he does he can't really speak to tactics and planning, just science.

Seeing his embarrassment, Jay shrugs, "I think visiting Vanaheim is a smart idea. The Vanir resistance clearly knows about me, so there's no point in pretending that I'm not here."

"But putting you anywhere near Tyr is not," Steve says, crossing his arms. They stare each other done for a moment. "He may even be behind this rebellion for all we know, to try and flush you out."

"Interesting point, Spangles," Tony says. "Ol' One-Hand may be trying to lure you in, Xena."

Jay turns to Natasha. "What has the resistance been targeting?"

Romanoff raises an eyebrow, not understanding the significance of the question but gives an answer anyways. "They've hit supply stores here and there mostly, robbed some vaults of wealthy Asgardian nobles living in the major citadels, very Robin-Hood activities all in all."

"But they haven't made any move on the palace? They haven't declared war on Asgard?" Jay asks.

"Not so far," Barton says picking up on Jay's train of thought. "You think they are trying to get rid of corrupt officials that are sympathetic to Asgard. Send a warning. 'We're coming and beware, we have a legit queen'."

"It wouldn't be too far-fetched," Jay points out. "I very much doubt that a resistance movement planned by Tyr would attack Asgardian households. He would burn farms to the ground and terrorize the Vanir people not the Asgardians."

"She does have a point," Bruce says and shoots Jay a grateful smile for supporting him earlier.

"I vote you send her to Vanaheim," Loki says from the corner where he is picking imaginary dirt out from under his fingernails. "Better to make an effort for the throne than pretend you're not the rightful ruler, am I right?"

Steve snorts. "Which you know from experience doesn't work," he says in a low voice. Loki shrugs at him, that sneer that drives Steve crazy plastered on his face.

"At least I'm honest about wanting to rule," he says with a pointed look at Jaycee.

She glowers at him, eyes narrowed. "I'm not lying. I don't want to be a queen."

He shrugs again and plops down on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Just then Jane comes in. She gives Loki a very disapproving-Jane face and puts her hands on her hips, staring him down until he takes his feet off the table. "How can you stand that scary face on your girl, Thor?" he mocks his brother.

Jane ignores him. "Sorry to interrupt but we really need to be getting ready to go?"

Jay starts and looks up and out the window. The sun has already started to set; they must have been talking for longer than she thought with all the activity of the morning. "Oh no." Her voice is full of very real terror.

"What?" Steve asks, instantly attentive to her, worried that she is sensing something.

Jane smiles at the super soldier. She grabs Jay very firmly by the wrist and pulls her up. "Don't worry Steve. Jaycee may be one tough cookie out on the battlefield or in an Avengers meeting but for some reason Darcy wielding hairbrush is the most terrifying thing in the world for her. We've got a banquet to get ready for."

"Steve, save me!" Jay whines as Jane drags her away to get ready for the banquet, reaching a forlorn hand towards him. He raises both of his eyebrows at her and makes as if he is going to run after her and then shakes his head.

"Revenge is sweet," he says and Jay practically growls at him. He laughs for the first time in a while as Jane tows Jay towards certain doom by dresses and makeup.

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"Ow!"

"Stop whining and fretting or it will take all night!" Darcy orders, pushing a pin against Jay's head to hold a curl in place. "If you mess up this hairstyle I am going to be furious with you. I might even tell Tony you secretly read Twilight."

Jay gives Darcy a very pointed death glare in the mirror, wishing she had laser vision and could singe the smirk off Darcy's face. "This is so stupid," she grumbles, crossing her arms like a petulant child. "This is torture of the worst kind."

"Blah, blah, blah," Darcy says, jabbing another pin against Jay's scalp. "You have curls I would kill for and you just lump them on your head in that ridiculous bun everyday. Now that's criminal."

Jay practices her angry faces in the mirror as Darcy tugs hard on her scalp. Darcy pulls hard on her curls and Jay mutters another "Ow." "No brow furrowing," Darcy commands, "You don't want to be a wrinkled royal old lady by thirty."

The joking demeanor drops out of Jay so fast that she feels empty. Darcy notices and stops tugging on her head for a moment. "What?" she asks Jay.

Jay wants to bite her lips but Darcy smothered them in lipstick and if she ruins it or gets red on her teeth she'll have to have it redone. Once was enough, thank you very much. "Can we not mention royalty and queens anymore?" Jay asks hesitantly, not wanting to sound weak. "I just…I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

Darcy looks at her in the mirror, one hand on her hip, the other wielding the hair brush. "Okay," she says quietly and that is how Jay knows Darcy understands. "But one more comment, please?" Darcy asks in her I'm-begging-you voice. Okay maybe she doesn't understand.

Hoping she's not setting herself up for a lecture on why or why not she should accept that she's the queen of Vanaheim, Jay mumbles, "Okay, just one."

Darcy pulls hard on the last curl and Jay says something filthy in Ukrainian. "Really?" Darcy asks. "Foreign languages? You know guys dig that?" Jay smirks despite herself a laugh working it's way up her throat. When she looks relaxed Darcy plays her card. "You may not want to be a queen, but you sure look like one."

Jay catches her breath, really looking at the transformation Darcy has wrought for the first time. Staring back is someone she doesn't recognize. Darcy smiles at her. "All thanks to me of course."

The moment is over and Jay turns to grab the brush from Darcy, waving it menacingly towards her. Darcy yelps and runs to the other side of the room. "Oh no you don't, you savage!" she hollers at Jay who is advancing on her threateningly with the hairbrush held like a club. "I spent hours on my makeup, stay back heathen!"

Jay dissolved into helpless laughter as Darcy picks up curlers and starts pelting her with them. Just at that moment Bruce walks in to check on them and a hair curler boinks into his forehead, dead in the center. Darcy covers her mouth with her hands, afraid she may have just triggered the Hulk while Jay nearly falls over she is laughing so hard.

"Um, I was sent to tell you the limo's here," Bruce says, cheeks red instead of green. He backs quickly out of the room looking so flustered that the moment he is gone Darcy collapses against Jay in laughter.

"We better go!" she says between hysterics.

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"What was going on in there?" Jane asks Darcy. Darcy pretends not to hear the question but Loki catches the sly smirk that creeps across her face when she turns away from Jane.

"Jace, come on!" Darcy bellows from the doorway. Loki leans against the wall, arms crossed across his chest as he watches Jane and Darcy fuss about before they leave for the astrophysics banquet. He will be left here under guard with Thor and it's irritating him that they are purposely leaving him with the Avenger he despises the most. But it's been close lately. Captain America has been getting on his nerves pretty badly recently.

He doesn't understand why Darcy is going since these discoveries are Erik Selvig's and Jane's and yes, Jaycee's as well. Erik is already at the event, not being comfortable with Loki's presence in the condo. That may or may not have something to do with Loki sneaking up behind him and saying "boo" at breakfast this morning. A limo is waiting outside to drive the women to the event, if Jaycee is ever ready to grace them with her presence.

"Jay!" Darcy whines. They hear the clacks of high heels on the hard wood floors of the hallway and then a stumble. Loki smirks to himself. Clumsy Jaycee in heels might actually be truly entertaining.

"I feel stupid and I can barely walk," Jay grumbles as she comes around the corner.

You could hear a Frost Giant sneeze from here, it gets that quiet in the room.

She is wearing a deep purple gown that plunges in sleek lines from her shoulders to her ankles, so dark it's almost black. There are strappy gold heels on her feet that wind up her ankles and a black lacy shawl draped over her arms and back which cover her scars. Simple gold chains of varying length hang from the smooth skin of her exposed neck and golden hoops gleam in her ears. Her nails are done, clean and rounded for once instead of the shorn and torn state they are normally in. Her lips are a coppery red below eyes lined and bronzed and her face is all sharp, beautiful planes.

But her hair is what really catches the eye.

Her thick curls have been split into sections and bound with small gold bands. The whole mass is pulled together at the nape of her neck and braided thickly down her back to hang between her shoulder blades.

Only Thor and Loki really understand the significance of what they are seeing. This is how Sigyn used to look, the way a queen's hair is done on Vanaheim. Jaycee must have pulled this style from her memories, from the time when Loki shattered the barrier in her mind placed there by Tyr. She looks like a Vanir princess.

Thor glances at Loki as surreptitiously as he can. He brother is quiet, eerily so, eyes glazed bright with memory. He realizes what Loki must see. Jay has become Sigyn in his mind and he sees the woman she was before the day of the failed marriage ceremony to Tyr. This is what Sigyn would have looked like if she had become the queen of Vanaheim. Even though Loki is closed off about everything else in his life, it is clear as day to Thor that what Loki felt for Sigyn was real, not part of one of his elaborate schemes. It makes him realize just how much Loki has lost.

Thor wants to put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder but as if Loki can sense his intent, he moves away, the familiar look of disdain painting his face once more.

"What did I do now?" Jaycee asks with a defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping. Without the proud pose, without her head held high, the illusion of Sigyn vanishes and Jaycee is standing in front of them. It takes Thor a moment to pinpoint why she looks so different from Sigyn and then her shawl slips from her shoulder and the ugly scars they gleam white against her skin.

"Oh my god, you're gorgeous, don't pay any attention to these noodle-brains!" Darcy squeals. She grabs a stunned Jay's wrist and pulls along in a whirlwind of jewels and silks, out the door and into the limo. Jane's jaw is hanging open and she snaps it shut with a knowing smile at Thor. He follows them out, helping Jane into the car. Loki watches in silence.

"Enjoy yourselves," Thor says and helps Jane in gently. Darcy is popping a bottle of champagne and Jay is looking nervous and uncomfortable. As the door closes she shoots Loki one last "save me" look before the limo pulls away.

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"They are leaving the condo now," Bjern tells the squadron grouped together on the top of the roof a couple buildings down from where the Avengers are staying.

"Are you positive she's with them," Remorag asks, permanent grimace deepening. "We don't want to risk picking up some random mortal from this realm."

"I'm sure," Bjern tells him from his prone position on the roof. "Have a look."

He hands over the looking glasses to Remorag who hunkers down next to him to peer down at the sparsely lit road. Syvlk joins them, waiting for Remorag to finish before taking the glasses from the now bewildered looking commado. Remorag looks at Bjern in absolute shock and Bjern nods at him with a small smile. "The likeness is uncanny, isn't it?" he says.

Syvlk has to agree from his position as well. The woman was only briefly visible before the long horseless carriage pulled away but the glimpse he got was so startlingly like the lost queen that there can be no doubt. That woman is most definitely a descendant of Sigyn of Vanaheim.

"Your orders?" Bjern defers to Syvlk.

"Njordon wants her on Vanaheim as soon as possible to break the backs of the Asgardian nobles and from the conversation we overhead earlier, these superhumans don't seem likely to let her go. She'll only have humans as protection at this banquet. We don't want to involve these 'Avengers' if we don't have to and certainly not Thor," Syvlk considers aloud for the benefit of the strike team. "We'll make our move once they get to their destination."

"What about the trickster?" Remorag asks, hate slipping over his features. "There's still a sizable bounty for him brought back to Vanaheim alive."

Syvlk shakes his head. "Our orders concern the queen not the trickster. We leave him out of this. No need to probe that old scar unless the operation goes south. We move out in five. Take separate routes to the banquet hall and regroup there to wait for my signal. It's been far too long since Vanaheim had a queen. Let's bring her home lads."


	11. Banquet Brawl

The whole way to the banquet, Darcy keeps up a steady stream of commentary, partly because she's excited and partly because she has drunk half the bottle of champagne already and they haven't even gotten to the dinner yet.

When they arrive, Jay presses herself back into the leather seat, willing herself to develop invisibility right this instant. She even closes her eyes and focuses so hard she thinks she can feel her eyebrows touch they are so close. When she cracks an eye to see if it worked, Jane is giving her a quizzical look from the open limo door. Jaycee is the last one out of the car and she sighs. This is going to be a long night.

When she steps out of the limo, suddenly Steve is there at her side offering his arm like every proper gentleman she's ever seen in a Victorian-era movie. "What are you doing here?" she hisses at him suddenly so self-conscious that she pulls the shawl tight around herself like armor.

He raises both his eyebrows at her. "You really thought we'd let you come without protection?"

She looks at him, saying nothing, chilly in the night air. He regards her for a moment and then it dawns him. "You just didn't think it would be me," he says quietly. She looks at him with that glance that says she's struggling to stay angry at him and wants to forgive him. He's seen it there on her face for other people but never for him.

Before the situation gets too awkward though, she steps up to him, inserts her small hand into the crook of his elbow and leads him towards the conference hall. To the world it would appear as if he is leading her and they just had a moment of brief confusion at the limo due to a change of plans. In actuality, she's leading him and she's stiff against his arm, keeping a fine space of air between them. She couldn't be making it more clear to him that she still hasn't forgiven him for what he did the other day.

He knows she's stubborn and he has no idea how to get through to this ice queen standing next to him.

They pass through the doors into the banquet hall and despite herself Jay smiles, her eyes wide in wonder at the chandeliers dripping crystals, the elaborate bouquets of flowers, the table settings laid out in perfect order. This is like something out of a fantasy novel, butlers with perfectly pressed shirts sweeping by, trays of champagne flutes held high above the heads of some of the most important minds in the astrophysics community.

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, Steve has to smile to himself at her look of amazement. Somedays he forgets how young she really is and how many life experiences she hasn't had yet. She looks around in wonder, taking in the brilliant lighting, the gowns, the pageantry of the whole affair. Suddenly she grabs his arm more firmly and stage whispers, "Look! That's Dr. Langbourne! Ohmygoodness!"

He follows he gaze to look at an unimpressive, short man with a receding hairline, bowtie in plaid and skew, talking to an Amazonian woman draped on his arm with jet black hair. "His theories on black hole gravimetric anomalies are so far ahead of everyone else right now!" Jaycee is so excited that she slips straight into science-speak and Steve has to admit that even though he's desperately lost when she talks like Stark, that its adorable in a nerdy way.

And just like that the tension between them dissipates as Jay goggles the assembled brains in the room, telling them all about their papers she's read or if they're crackpots or not. When the speaker on the podium in the middle of the room bangs his gavel to signal to everyone to sit down, Rogers almost has to pull Jay to their seats she is so enamored with some scientist who discovered a white dwarf pairing in the Gamma-67 quadrant.

They take their seats and Jay finally realizes that she has been science-babbling for the past fifteen to twenty minutes. "Ooops," she mutters, cheeks heating up. Steve gives her a genuine smile, trying to be as real as he can. She brushes an errant curl out of her eyes and lowers her eyes shyly, clearly embarrassed. Then she holds out her hand to him at her side. "Friends?"

He looks at her, knowing that he wants more but this is her peace offering for the time being. He grabs her small hand, feeling her rings against his palm. "Friends," he smiles.

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"My lord?" The goblin queries, cowering at the foot of the throne.

Tyr, the One-handed god, raises on perfect groomed blond eyebrow disdainfully at the slimy creature before him. Nothing more, not even a vocal acknowledgement. Just a raised eyebrow of disapproval.

"The scouts, my lord," the goblin chitters nervously. "They have not returned."

"And this should be concerning to me because?" Tyr asks, a very bored expression on his face.

"The rebellion on Vanaheim sir," the goblin says. "They attacked Asgardian citadels. They are getting bolder. And, and….,"

"Well?" Tyr demands, plucking a grape from the bowl on the armrest of his throne. He throws the pit to the side, wishing instead he could throw it at the miserable wretch in front of him. Maybe after it finishes its report.

"My lord," the goblin is groveling on its knees now. "The rebellion,… they have found the girl."

"WHAT?!" Tyr roars. "How could they have found her?" He's up on his feet and has the goblin by its grimy throat. "They'll have her back on Vanaheim before the end of the day! You buffoon!" The goblin sails clean across the hall and slams into a pillar. Tyr storms out of the hall and into the large atrium. Spying the woman standing there he rushes over to her in a rage.

"The rebellion on Vanaheim has found Sigyn's grand-daughter!" he yells at the woman's back. She turns coolly around to look at him with her mismatched eyes. She doesn't cover an inch as he rants to her. "You're spies were supposed to find her first and keep the rebellion from ever learning that she is a true heir to the throne of Vanaheim!"

Hel regards him levelly, letting him finish blowing off steam. She cocks her hip, hand flippantly resting there as if none of this matters. When Tyr's rage subsides she asks, "Finished with your tirade?"

"How can you be so careless about this!?" Tyr asks. "You know very well what could happen if the girl was to take the throne."

"But she won't so I don't have to worry," Hel says and confusion creases Tyr's forehead. "The rebellion knows where she is, yes. But now so do we. She won't take the crown without some resistance, you know this. The time she spends denying her birthright will be all the time we need to use her to flush out the rebels and secure the throne ourselves. Use the fools to get what we want."

Tyr regards her for a moment. "Sometimes I forget why you're such a great ally," he tells her begrudgingly. She smiles, lips cracking wide on one side to show the jaw bones of her half-ruined face.

"You know you love me," she says, draping her arms over her shoulders.

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Dinner has been served, an elaborate chicken dish with some crazy vegetables from unpronounceable countries but Jay is paying attention, hasn't even picked up her fork. She has her elbows on the table, hardly proper, holding up her head as she listens in rapt fascination to the lecturer taking on the podium. Steve thinks the man is speaking Greek, the words are so foreign but Jay is listening so intently that he knows she understands every word. It's almost scary how smart that girl is.

The lecturer finishes and there is a small break before the next speaker, which is Jane, and Jay seems to shake herself out of her nerd daze and see the food in front of her. Dessert is about to be served and she hasn't even touched dinner.

As she digs into her chicken as quickly as she can manage without looking like a pig, Darcy slides down into the seat on her left. She leans across Jay to look at Steve, on Jay's right. "Like the lecture?" she asks Steve.

"Um, well, it was… informative." Steve rubs the back of his neck, his nervous tick that says I-had-no-idea-what-he-was-talking-about. Darcy smirks at him and Jaycee tries not to laugh.

"it's fine Steve," she says. "Darcy didn't understand anything either. She only thinks she's a science person because the word 'science' appears in 'political science major'."

"Hey!" Darcy says mock indignantly, elbowing Jaycee in the side. Unfortunately it happens right when Jay is taking a bite and she hacks hard on the piece of meat, drawing disgusted stares from the rest of the people at their table. Darcy tries and fails to hold in a hysterical giggle. Jay gives her the I'm-going-to-murder-you look and Darcy throws her hands up in mock surrender.

The banquet hall starts to quiet as Jane takes the stage. Jaycee leaves her meal unfinished on the table, looking at it in mock disgust. "Stupid fancy poultry," she mutters and Steve smiles next to her. Hesitantly, he reaches towards her. Her shawl has fallen down, revealing a small sliver of her upper back and although he actually doesn't mind seeing a little skin, some of her scars are showing which he knows she doesn't want. When he touches her she jumps a bit but sees what he is doing and wills herself to let him. She's trying to be nicer to him, to forgive but she's having a hard time with it, especially since she knows how he feels.

She turns her attention back to Jane but something suddenly feels off to her. Steve sees the change on her face and takes his hand away, wrongly thinking it is him. "Sorry," he mutters but she isn't looking at him. Her eyes are far away, focused on something he can't see. "Jay?" he asks.

She looks up at him, her brow creased in concentration. She scans the room as if looking for some unseen danger or listening to something only she can hear. "I thought…," she trails off and then her eyes widen.

"Down!" Jay screams and tackles Steve.

It's not so much a tackle as a full force body ram into a steel wall but she manages to mostly due to Steve's surprise and a hefty amount of telekinesis. He tries to roll out from underneath her but stops when he sees she's supporting a sizeable amount of the glass ceiling with her mind, hands upraised to hold it there. The shards and chips she can't completely account for and they nick her bare arms but she has managed to keep the largest hunk from slicing them both cleanly in half at the waist.

"Now who needs protection?" she grits out. She sets the glass down carefully, avoiding running physicists and panicked spouses. To his great surprise, she hikes up the side of her gown and removes a dagger that had been strapped to her calf. She uses it to quickly slit the side of her gown up to her thighs and kicks her legs through, testing her newfound mobility. When she sees the look that Steve is giving her, she rolls her eyes and holds out a hand to help him up. "You knew Natasha was teaching me."

Steve grabs her forearm and she hauls him upright. "I guess I didn't realize just how much."

They look around to survey the situation.

A force of heavily armed mercenary soldiers wielding swords and knives are descending through the hole where the ceiling once used to be. Neither Jay nor Steve recognize the uniforms, or lack thereof but they move, sensing this table is no longer safe. Guests are fleeing for the exit, tables getting overturned in the chaos, glasses of champagne flying into the air.

"Where's Jane and Darcy?" Jaycee yells at him over the melee.

"There, by the exit!" Steve yells. Jaycee sighs in relief. "Who are these people?"

The invaders have reached the ground and are unclipping from their ropes. Steve and Jay stand back to back, moving as fast as they can towards the exit. One of the men catches sight of her and his eyes widen. He yells something at his companions in a language Jay cannot understand and points towards her. Her heart plummets.

"They're here for you!" Steve yells, grabbing on to her upper arm and jolting her from her terrified stupor. She mentally shakes herself. She thought she was through freezing at the slightest indication that someone was after her but apparently it's much harder to shake than that.

They pelt towards the exit but are cut off in only a matter or meters, surrounded on all sides by a motley host of what look like rogues and rangers from a kingdom of swords and kings. Jaycee and Steve stand back to back and she levels her knife, blade flat against her forearm. "Can you get a reading on them?" Steve says over his shoulder.

Jay expands her mind, trying to see what they are thinking. The flood of thoughts is jumbled at first but then she sees what most of them are thinking and she pulls back so hard that her head cracks against Steve's.

"Jay?" he asks, turning his head slightly to get a better look at her.

"Vanaheim," she says. "Rebellion soldiers." That is concise enough for Rogers. Instead of waiting for the men to attack he grabs Jay's wrist tightly.

"Open your thoughts to me," he orders and she does without hesitation. In any other situation she'd be hesitant but Barton taught her not to let her own emotional problems cloud her judgement in high stress situations. This probably counts as a high stress situation. She sees what Steve's thinking, knows how to best work with him, how she can move with him.

"Move and I'll follow," she says. Rogers tightens his hold on her wrist and she spins, running a few quick steps before Rogers launches her into the air.

The surprised soldier barely has a moment to react as Jaycee catapults up into the air and comes down hard on his chest. She digs in with her heels, suddenly glad she's wearing heels as the stilettos bruise deep into the man's chest. She lashes out behind her with a snapping kick that dislocates another man's knee. Behind her Steve pummels two men's heads together, knocking both out in one move.

Jaycee loads deep into her legs and springs up, using her powers to help as she vaults up and backwards. She slashes as she goes, drawing blood and a cry of pain. One man grabs onto her upper arm from behind but she spins, breaks the hold and tears the strap of her dress in the process. She drives her elbow back hard and hears his breath leave him in a whoosh, blowing against her hair. Steve is hauling a man off his own back and throwing him over his shoulder as she clocks a roundhouse kick hard into the chin of the last man near her, taking him out cold.

Then Steve is next to her and they are running hard for the exit, most of their pursuers on the ground, nursing non-fatal wounds. A spray of blood decorates Jay's arm and the side of Steve's head although when she sends him a telepathic query, he tells her it isn't his. A ghost of a thought flits through her open mind and she ducks, an arrow speeding above her head, not an inch from where she had been. She telekinetically shoves backwards, unbalancing the man who fired the shot to keep him from trying again.

Steve shoves her in front of him towards the exit and they run down the stairs, slowly realizing that they aren't being actively pursued. Still, Rogers pushes Jay in head first and she goes sprawling on the limo floor at the feet of Darcy and Jane. "Drive!" Steve shouts at the driver, slamming the door shut just in time as an arrow pings off the side of the car.

"What was that?" Jane demands. Jaycee pushes herself up so she's at least sitting on the floor instead of kissing it. She shares a brief grim glance with Steve.

"Seems the rebellion has made their move," Rogers says. "They want Jay on the throne of Vanaheim bad enough to attempt a kidnapping."

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Remorag spits blood in his fury. "Who was in charge of telling us that she had the super-soldier with her!"

Syvlk sighs, picking himself up from the ground, shaking glass from his hair with a slightly bemused smile on his face. Remorag sees the look and his face reddens even further, an amazing feat since he's already far beyond tomato stage.

"What's so funny!" he practically screams at the mission leader. Bjern and Kaiton come up to stand beside them, Bjern sporting a laceration across his forearm and Kaiton limping from a dislocated knee.

Syvlk grins. "She's got a mean roundhouse kick," he says rubbing his jaw. "She didn't even need the super-soldier. She could have taken all of us out herself. Now that is a true queen of Vanaheim. I'm impressed."

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"Who knew a physics conference could be so dangerous," Stark muses as Steve helps Jane and Darcy out of the limo. Barton is trying to make sure Jaycee is okay but she keeps batting his hands away with angry looks. Finally she gets so sick of him that she gives him a telekinetic shove and a growled "Back off, MOM."

Watching from the doorway next to Thor, Loki almost looks concerned, like he rushed to the door because he was worried when he heard about the attack at the banquet. He's doing his best to pretend he didn't start worrying when Steve radioed that an unknown party targeted Jaycee. He knows he has them all convinced which is a relief. Except maybe Thor who doesn't miss much when it comes to him, much to his chagrin. Thor is thick about everything else. It figures.

He keeps a very wary eye on Jaycee who is being shadowed by Steve. Rogers definitely looks worried about her but not in the same way he did before. He still cares about her welfare but he can also see a new wariness in his eyes as well as though he saw something in Jaycee tonight that he isn't sure he likes. Jay is oblivious to her stars-and-stripes bodyguard. She's trying to keep Tony away too who is more concerned about how many courses were served and with which wines. They all pile into the living room, Jane worrying over Darcy as they kick off fancy shoes.

Jay's eyes are bright and clear, much like when he's seen her fight in the past. There are smears of dried blood on her cheek and arm, but for once it's not hers. The left strap of her dress has been torn and he catches a glimpse of scarring on the left side of her chest and collar bone that had been previously hidden from view. He can't see the details from where he is standing but something about it strikes a chord in him, like a premonition. He edges closer to her as Thor fusses over Jane and Darcy and Barton who is mothering Jaycee.

She notices him approaching out of the corner of her eye, not letting on to the others how close he is to her. She keeps her eyes on Barton, trying to convince him she's fine but he can almost feel her following him with her mind. Reflexively she tugs the left side of her dress up and pulls to shawl back over her shoulder, covering old scars. He may not have seen exactly what she covered but that déjà vu feeling won't dissipate, leaving him watching her.

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He waits in the hallway upstairs as she comes up, heels dragging on the wooden steps, sounding as tired as she looks. She is already looking for him as she mounts the landing, eyes bright in the darkness, sparkling like some kind of nocturnal animal. She pulled a long sleeved shirt on over her dress to hide her bare shoulders from the chilly desert night.

They regard each other for a moment, her hair hanging disheveled in spirals around her body.

He takes her hand and gently tugs her into her lab, the room not that far down the hall from the bedroom Thor and Jane share. He can feel the reluctance in her arms at first but then her curiosity wins out. He knows she won't peer into his mind; she doesn't want to be anywhere near his thoughts, not after what they have done to her before. He closes the door behind them and then they are starkly alone, staring at each other.

She doesn't ask anything, just stands there waiting. She's tense, but only slightly, as if she knows with surety that he means her no harm. She is more than capable of sending out a telepathic message to the Avengers if he makes a move at her and absurdly he likes that she is now that confident in her abilities. She can read emotions off of him right now and it has her looking at him in a calculating way but she still refuses to read his mind. Jaycee just waits.

He hesitates briefly which is not like him, then strips off the long-sleeved shirt given to him by Thor. She makes a small, embarrassed, shocked sound. He can hear the protest on her lips and she's already starting to turn away so he turns around quickly. It sounds like her breath stops for a moment. When it resumes its shaky.

He hears her approach him and lets her, staying facing away, his back bare to her. He hears her hesitant thought. _May I?_ He nods minutely, just barely glancing back at her, not wanting her to back off. Her small fingers run along the runework scar that decorates the left side of his back. He knows her hands are rough from training but her touch is butterfly-light and the pads of her fingertips are soft. She traces the lines of the mandala and then suddenly her touch is gone.

He turns slightly to looks at her. She slowly lowers her wide-necked shirt off her shoulder. He's noticed that she always wears sleeves to cover the scars on the insides of her elbows. Once he would have thought that cowardice but he knows with Jaycee that it's just her way of showing she's chosen to forget the past and move on. She's the kind of person who doesn't like unnecessary questions and having what looks like needle scars on her arms would definitely raise some unsavory questions at the university.

She gently puts two fingers under her bra-strap and pulls that down too, flushing fuchsia all the way to her ear tips. She visibly swallows when she does but his eyes are located on the matching mandala that curls in runic patterns on her chest.

It spans from her collarbone across her chest on the left side. He knows without having to compare that it is identical to the one on his back. She's watching him, something destroyed in her eyes. Self-consciousness slips in and she nervously pulls the bra-strap back over her shoulder. His hand stops her when she goes to pull up her shirt sleeve though; but not in a demanding way. Slowly he reaches a hand out towards her. She stiffens but doesn't stop him.

She holds herself perfectly still as his fingers trace the scars on her chest. She's trying to control her breathing so much that she almost isn't moving. They are too close, far too close for comfort and after a moment he backs away. She hurriedly pulls her shirt back into place and ducks her head behind her curls, hiding her face from his searching gaze.

They watch each other, wary, two completely guarded people who want to let the other in but won't admit it, won't allow it for fear of breaking the other of for fear of losing part of themselves in the process.

Finally Loki sighs. "I'm probably not going to sleep tonight," he says, almost like an invitation.

Jaycee cocks her head at him and her words are quiet, coming out clear even as she bites her lip. "I know somewhere we can go."


	12. A New Mexican Night

They end up on the roof together, under the stars and all that romantic bullshit.

Jaycee changed into sweat pants and her long t-shirt and shed her heels and dress. Her hair is still up though, a pile of curls held together with bands of gold and pins. He has to admit it actually looks tamed instead of the riot it normally is. He's dressed simply too and anyone looking up at the condo roof would probably just see a guy and a girl having a nice evening conversation.

Except they're not normal, not in the least.

Jaycee dangles her legs off the edge, a daring display for her. "Not afraid of heights anymore?" he asks her as she kicks her heels in tandem against the side of the house.

"Not afraid," she says wryly. "But still definitely not comfortable so keep your distance or I will throw you off. I wouldn't even have to pretend it was an accident to the Avengers."

He raises an eyebrow and she smirks at him. "I seem to recall an incident involving a flying Asgardian boat, New York City and you absolutely screaming your head off," he says and she gives him a sour twist of her lips. "Barton must have some interesting training methods if he got you to stop having that adverse of a reaction to falling through dimensional loops and crashing into skyscrapers. And Tony is right, you keep scowling like that and you'll have wrinkles."

Jay can't help herself. She bursts out laughing so hard she rocks backwards, stomach hurting she's cackling so hard. Loki looks at her with worried eyes, afraid she's either finally lost it or that she's going to crack a rib. Unbidden a smile creases his eyes too and soon the two of them are laughing hysterically on the roof.

When Jay finally manages to catch her breath, she forgets who she is with and nudges his shoulder with hers. "You agreed with Tony," she says, still giggling a little. "And you totally painted a mental image for me of what it looked like when we skydived from Asgard to NYC. That flower vendor's face was hilarious when you took out his stand with your stupid Asgardian boots." She dissolves into another fit of laughter, eyes tearing up.

Loki looks at her with one eyebrow raised, unsure if her last loose screw has fallen out. When she finally catches her breath, she looks at him with a smile on her face. "Come on, you have to admit that was funny," she says. He shrugs nonchalantly. She makes a rude noise. "Stick in the mud," she accuses.

He wrinkles his face in mock confusion and she giggles again to herself. She drums her legs against the side of the condo, looking up at the sky, looking far more relaxed and happy that he has ever really seen her despite the fact that she was just involved in a brawl at a physics banquet. He must be projecting his thoughts because she looks at him with those uncanny eyes and says, "I am happy, you know. In general, my life is happy now. I don't see that as a bad thing. Do you?"

She cocks her head at him, bird-like as she perches on the edge of the roof, waiting for him to say something. He could talk to her about what happened tonight at the banquet or those tense moments in the lab looking at each other's scars. He could even tell her about his bargain with Hel but even when that thought occurs to him, a barrier goes up high in his mind. Her eyes narrow as though she senses it, which she probably does but she doesn't pry.

In truth, he just wants to sit here in silence and watch the stars stay still with her. For once in his life, Loki, god of lies, wants to enjoy a true moment in his life with an honest woman.

But even as he leans back on his palms, legs hanging next to hers, he feels something like a premonition tighten the atmosphere, make it change, become malevolent. She must feel it too because she springs to a crouch on the edge of the roof, eyes scanning the night darkness for whatever is causing this tremor. He stands up next to her and it is then that he sees a flicker of movement on the edge of the roof.

Time slows, her senses go afire with tension, muscles prepping for battle. Loki looks at her with those too green, too familiar eyes and yells, "Run, Jaycee!"

Her full name on his lips jolts her out of her tired stupor faster than anything else ever could have. She hesitates for only a nanosecond, then grabs his hand tightly and sends a telekinetic pulse at the band of unknown warriors climbing up over the edge of the roof. He looks at her like she's lost her mind but she barely sees as they sprint away towards the opposite edge of the roof from where the warriors are coming, her tiny body pulling him along with a surprising amount of strength.

"Hold on!" she hollers over her shoulder and then jumps off the edge of the roof.

The sudden downward acceleration stuns him momentarily but not so much as the fact that they are about to become roadkill. They freefall for a moment before Jay pushes hard with her mind and puts up a telekinetic barrier between them and the ground. They touch down a little roughly and Loki raises an eyebrow at her trying to hide how shaky that felt. She shrugs. "Haven't gotten the landing right yet," she says nonchalantly. "And by the way? That's the reason I'm not afraid of heights anymore."

They warriors are cursing behind them, having to rappel or take the stairs to follow them. Half didn't make it to the rooftop and will be running around the sides of the building now. They have precious seconds to gain an advantage in ground. "We stick together," she tosses the words over her shoulder at him, hair rippling back at the speed they are running at. "I honestly don't trust you not to bolt and you have answers I need." She gives him a rather cheeky grin. "Consider yourself my prisoner."

He raises one eyebrow and the twitch of a smirk would have her laughing if she didn't need all of her breath to power herself forward. She notices she is still holding onto him and that somehow their hands are now entwined. Like, fingers laced and everything.

 _Stars above._ She'll deal with this later.

"Are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?" Loki asks conversationally as they hang a hard right at the coffee shop on the corner. "You're going to need to pull harder than that."

Jay yanks hard on his arm just to be spiteful. He lets out an involuntary "ow" of protest. An arrow whizzes past her head, close enough to send a rippling breeze through her hair. She risks a glance behind her.

Their pursuers are still coming. "Persistent lot, no?" she says.

"Credit where it's due," Loki shrugs.

"They're Vanir, aren't they?" she asks between deep breaths.

"It would appear so," Loki says, barely keeping up with her pace. "Do we have to go at Mach Two? I think Mach One would be just a doable." In response she accelerates, taking them straight into the heart of downtown, her hair coming loose and slapping him in the face. "Do you have a plan or is it just tire them out?"

"Hush," she admonishes. "Need breath for breathing."

"Wouldn't you be better off under the protection of your precious Spandex Crew?" Loki asks.

She keeps her face as humorless as possible when she looks at him. "They could use the sleep. Mustn't wake."

He laughs despite himself, despite the situation and she gives him such a cocky smile before she pulls a knife from her belt and holds it up menacingly. He doesn't have time to be shocked before she throws the knife, the blade skimming his ear. He turns to watch its trajectory as it turns in the starlight to bury itself to the hilt in the calf of one of their pursuers.

They pound the pavement hard. "You almost looked afraid I'd knife you," Jaycee says conversationally as they sprint around gas pumps and dormant cars at the one gas station in town.

"Try incredulous," Loki retorts. "I still don't know where you were hiding that blade."

"Take a guess," Jaycee says, her voice sultry despite the fact that she is dodging debris on a pothole ridden street. He pulls on her arm to get her to look at him and she does, a half embarrasses flush on her face, the other half challenging in a way he's never seen before.

She doesn't let him complete his analysis. "Come on," she says, voice husky like she's struggling to control how it comes out. Goodness are they flirting? In the middle of a chase through New Mexican streets at some ungodly hour in the morning. She risks a glance back at him. Oh no, by the Norns they are. His gaze is heated, something she's never seen before. Thank goodness it's dark because she's definitely the deepest shade of crimson present in any Crayola box.

"But seriously," Loki says, "Why run away from sanctuary?"

Jaycee keeps moving, seeing soldiers moving towards them from the right, trying to head them off. She lets go of his hand for a moment and puts on a burst of speed and jumps, grabbing onto the lowest rung of an old rusty fire escape. She does a pullup to grab the next rung and levers herself up onto the iron catwalk. She looks back down towards him and gives him a look that can only say "WELL?"

Somewhat less gracefully than Jay, Loki makes his way up the rickety ladder. While he struggles, she enjoys it, speaking to him as if they are chatting in a coffee shop. "No offense to any of the Avengers but right now I don't trust that Fury doesn't have his hands in this somehow. They want me on the throne of Vanaheim and I'm not interested. Knowing them, if we'd stayed and had the fight that would have ensued, it would have gone to negotiations that would have not taken my opinion into account. I rest their judgement in all but I'm not one of them and I plan to keep it that way until I know that I'm not just a bargaining chip."

She holds out a hand and helps him out just as the first soldier rounds the corner to the alley with the fire escape. "After you," she says, ushering him upwards. They hit the stairs at a run, the metal creaking underneath. Arrows ping off the metal, and Jay deflects any that come too close with small telekinetic shoves.

They mount the roof and Jay leads him like an expert between air conditioning units, staying low. She stops him for a moment, both of them catching their breath, straining to hear if the soldiers are following them up. "Do you have a plan or are we just going to run around town all night?" Loki asks between pants. Jay holds up a finger to silence him, ears cocked and he rolls his eyes. "Not that I don't enjoy running, but-,"

She cuts him off by clamping a hand over his mouth. "Just, shhhh, for one freaking nanosecond," she hisses at him. He raises an eyebrow at her over her hand on his mouth and she flinches backwards. She scans the area, her body tensed. "Something isn't-," But she never finishes that sentence.

Out of nowhere an arrow slices through the air, speeding for them. Without hesitation, Jaycee stands up and snags it out of the air, eyes already swiveling to see where the attacker is. Still stunned by her telepathic catch, Loki is slow on the updraw as she yells, "Goblins!"

She is indeed right. Goblins and trolls are swarming over the rooftops, engaging the soldiers from Vanaheim and making a beeline for her. Loki grabs her arm. "I'd say Tyr knows where you are," he says and the two of them survey the surroundings, suddenly lacking an escape routes. They had intended to track their foes from Vanaheim from the rooftops but now they are trapped. In this small town, the buildings are slightly too far apart to jump between as they would be in a big city.

The soldiers from Vanaheim seem just as surprised as Jaycee and Loki, engaging the goblins and trolls and shouting orders in a language Jaycee does not understand. There is little time for conversation as a horde of goblins mark their position and converge on them. Loki motions sharply to Jay and she slides her second hidden blade into his hand, leaving herself with only her mind and her training and her powers to defend herself. They stand back to back, preparing for the onslaught.

The first troll to reach them tries to pounce from a neighboring building. They duck as a unit, Jaycee delivering a high kick to the back of its head as it sails by. An axe comes flying for Loki but Jaycee deflects it telekinetically and sends it hurtling into the chest of a goblin. They move as a unit, slashing, stabbing, shoving, kicking.

Time blurs and soon it becomes difficult to discern who is fighting whom. Soldiers from Vanaheim take out trolls but also try to get to Jaycee in the melee. Goblins hack at Loki but also pounce on the highly-outnumbered soldiers from Vanaheim. Jay tries not to think so much and to just move, to feel the presences around her and react. If she stops to think she'll surely try to figure out how Tyr knew where to send his army of rejects. She won't admit it, even to herself, that she is terrified that Tyr is going to magically appear here and take her away again.

"I know this is going to sound strange," Loki yells over the din as he lashes out, impaling a goblin in the chest, "But if you and I work together, we just might be able to get clear of this rabble."

"I'm all about practicality," Jay hollers back. He grabs her wrist and swings her around. At the same moment, she jumps, putting all of her strength into twisting herself up and over. Loki holds tight as he swings her around in body in an arc. She lashes out hard with her feet, clearing the space around them and gaining them a moment of reprieve before the next wave hits. She lands, her chest flush up against his back and stumbles hard, falling into him.

"The Vanir seem to be winning," Loki says to her over his shoulder. "You have a plan for them when we eliminate Tyr's army?"

He turns to steady her but what he sees horrifies him. Jaycee has stumbled into him, not from her usual clumsiness, but because an arrow shaft is protruding obscenely from her back. She looks up at him, eyes unfocused and sinks to her knees, swaying in pain.

He sees it all again in a moment, Sigyn lying at his feet, wounded and in danger. He loses a moment of the present as he slides into the past, seeing the queen of Vanaheim dying at his feet. Then the flashback fades and he is slammed into reality as a goblin lurches towards him with a battle cry. Jaycee collapses completely, blood shimmering wet in the darkness of the night.

He has no time to help her as a Vanir man runs towards him, shrieking a battle cry. He lashes upwards, slicing into the man's cheek, blood spraying his face. He lets the fury emerge and kicks the man savagely in the chest, buckling the man around his boot. Someone screams something in Vanir as the man picks himself up for another assault. The man stops, hesitates and the man who yelled at him fights his way towards Loki.

They regard each other for a moment, the Vanir man looking at Jaycee's shuddering form laying on the ground. "We will protect you. Save her," he says. He whistles and the Vanir men surround Loki and Jay, forming a wall of protection between them and the trolls and goblins. The leader nods at Loki and then turns sharply, swinging his sword to decapitate a troll.

Loki knows there will be a price for this but he drops to Jaycee's side. Something isn't right. She's shivering uncontrollably as if with fever. She's fallen onto her back hard; the arrow shaft having broken off in her fall. She's gasping hard for air, unable to get a full breath. He rolls her over, none too gently in his haste and sees the remaining arrow shaft sticking out of her back, slick with blood. It's lower than he initially thought and with dread he realizes that it may have clipped her lung and that's why she isn't breathing right.

 _Just get it over with._ She thinks at him hard. He grabs the shaft and yanks hard, her blood sliding over his hands. She screams a muffled yelp of agony and flounders on the ground, trying to alleviate the pain. Loki throws the arrow shaft away, nailing a troll between the eyes with his blind shot. He presses down hard on her back to slow the bleeding as he works up the energy necessary to heal her. He doesn't know if he can bypass the lock on the magic dampening device still strapped to his ankle but is relieved of that worry when Jay reaches back towards him and motions something unintelligible with her hand. The cuff springs open on his ankle and she slumps forward, coughing hard, trying very hard not to cry out.

He doesn't hesitate once the cuff clacks away. He presses down hard, sending as much of his magic into her punctured lung as possible. Her back arches unnaturally and she goes rigid. Jaycee lets out a silent scream, her telekinetic power kicking in. She sends out a shock wave, uncontrolled, that flattens everyone in a mile radius, knocking them clean off their feet. Loki is the only one unaffected and he grabs onto her head, looking into her eyes. They have a moment before the men recover and come for them and he needs to know her move.

She looks up at him, trying to communicate something to him. She's still struggling to breathe, eyes cloudy with pain and desperation. _Tell Thor what happened._ She sends at him mentally. _Let the Vanir take me, they can take care of the goblins and I'm safer with them than with Tyr._

 _No,_ he argues, _I'm not leaving you._ He almost adds _again_ to that sentence but catches himself just in time. _We can still face them and get out of here._

 _Don't try to kid yourself. It's out of character._ She manages to raise an eyebrow at him. _I'm good, but I'm not that good and I'm pretty sure there's an arrow head still lodged in me somewhere._

He brushes his hand over her back subconsciously, fingering the wound. She moves in pain under him, eyes closing tightly in pain. _You need to go._ She tells him. _Leave me here. You can go, be free to do whatever you want. I won't put that cuff back on and you can leave this all behind._

And for a moment he is tempted, sorely tempted to do as she says and leave this war behind. But he knows he cannot, knows that they both die if he does. She does not know this and is offering him a way to run, to be free of the Avengers and of her. But the truth is, even if he wasn't bound to Hel, he cannot leave her, because…. because….

He turns to the Vanir leader. "She's badly injured," he tells the man. "Can you get us out of here? I will come with you as a prisoner for insurance."

Jaycee grabs his arm. _No, no, what are you-_ but he cuts off her mental thoughts and the protests forming on her lips by sending a quick blast of magic into her that cuts off her voice and stops her from using her power momentarily. She looks at him in shock, a look of horror and betrayal on her face. He pretends he doesn't see it and keeps his gaze on the Vanir leader. He holds his hands out to the man who looks at him consideringly. His men are finishing off the last of Tyr's force and he motions to one of his commanders. The man steps forward and binds Loki's wrists in tight shackles, a make the trickster has never seen before. Another Vanir man kneels at Jaycee's side and very gently picks her up in his arms, her body tiny against his armor. She struggles weakly but Loki surreptiously sends a bolt of magic towards her and she falls limp in the man's arms.

The Vanir leader watches this with guarded eyes. He motions to his men, says something in Vanir and they all look towards Jaycee, unconscious in one of the commander's arms. The men look as though they want to cheer but worried glances are exchanged looking at her state. The leader looks at Loki, grabbing onto the cuffs on his wrists. "We will take her to Vanaheim to heal her," he tells the god of mischief. "Any trouble from you and my men have been ordered to kill you."

Loki looks at him with his signature smirk. "I'd expect no less from a Vanir commander," he says conversationally. The leader pulls him close, so they are face to face as the men prepare some device to make an interstellar jump.

"I know who you are trickster," the man hisses so that only they can hear. The men look towards them with varying degrees of disdain and loathing. "We all know the stories of your betrayal. You step one inch out of line and I will not hesitate to end you. I don't care what your scheme is, or why you are with our queen but if you put her life in danger, I will make it slow and painful. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Loki hisses in his face. "And just so we are clear, if you hurt her in any way, if you use her as a figurehead for your damn revolution, be assured that I will end you." Slightly surprised by Loki's vehement defense, the leader leans back from the trickster god.

"So be it," he says. He whistles to two of his men who come over and roughly handle Loki, half dragging him towards the main party, where two of the men are cranking a wheel on a device he has never seen before. With a snap of electricity, the air in front of them on the edge of the roof shimmers and slowly, a familiar rainbow portal opening. One particularly burly and scarred man pushes Loki roughly forward when he tries to get closer to Jaycee to see her.

She is stirring in the arms of the soldier who lifted her. The soldier is looking down at her with something like reverence and Loki wants to wipe that look off his face. Jay comes to in the soldier's arm and he says something reassuring but he hasn't had any experiences with Jaycee Strong before and therefore does not expect her to clock him with a punch that would have decked Thor. She is up and trying to run before anyone can react and Loki tries to reach for her but is pulled back roughly, a fist grazing his temple and making him wobbly.

Jaycee doesn't make it far but Loki can hear her thoughts screaming through the night. _THOR!_ She roars, staggering as the men grab her. _BARTON! Vanaheim, adrenaline, hurry!_ Loki doesn't understand the last part but suddenly Jaycee is convulsing on the ground, eyes rolled back in her head, limbs shaking uncontrollably. He tries again to get to her but the man guarding him punches him hard in the stomach, pushing all of the air forcefully out of his body. He clacks his knees hard on the rooftop and catches a glimpse of Jaycee seizing hard on the ground. He does not know what is happening to her, but the Vanir leader does not hesitate.

"Remorag, take the prisoner. Bjern, Kaiton, carry the queen!" he hollers. "We need to get her back to Njordon and the healers now!"

The surly, scarred guard hauls Loki bodily to his feet and pushes him towards the portal. The young man from before and his friend pick up Jaycee who is still spasming hard and carry her as best as they can towards the portal. As the Bifrost portal fills his vision Loki fervently, for the first time in decades, hopes that Thor has heard Jay's call and will do his best to come after her. He sees a sweep of Jay's auburn hair and rainbow light and then, nothing but the vastness of space.


	13. Old Grudges

Barton wakes from a dead sleep with words screaming through his mind. _"VANAHEIM. ADRENALINE!"_

He's up an out of bed as fast as his body with carry him. The door flies outwards and as he skids out into the hallway he sees Thor literally rip his bedroom door from the frame to join him in the hallway. "Jay is in trouble!" he yells at Barton, who nods.

"Did you get a read on where?" Barton asks as they meet in the middle. Thor shakes his head.

"I got images of Loki and Jaycee and the same Vanir men who attacked earlier tonight. I also saw goblins and trolls. I fear Tyr has found her," Thor tells him, his face one huge map of worry. "She screamed your name as well and the word 'adrenaline'. Do you know what that means?"

"Unfortunately, I do and it's nothing good," Barton says. "Follow me, we have to grab something and then wake up the others. She's going to be on Vanaheim either way and I'm pretty sure Fury has a way to get there."

He looks at Thor. "Could you tell if they took Loki as well?"

Thor sighs as they race down the hall, knocking on doors and rousing a very angry Tony Stark and a disgruntled Black Widow. Thor knows Barton has no love for his former brother but also knows that he can be honest about the situation. "For her sake, I hope he is because despite his animosity towards us, he does truly care about her."

As the rest of the Avengers gather in the hall, brushing sleep from their eyes, Barton ducks into Jaycee's room, disappearing into the bathroom. He reappears in a moment holding a couple of vials of amber gel and a packet of clean syringes. Bruce is the first to show a glimmer of understanding as Thor explains the situation to them.

"What exactly is that?" Banner asks Barton as he steps into the now-lit circle of Avengers. Clint sighs, holding the vials up to the light for them all to see.

"Jaycee asked not to tell you unless the situation was dire. Seeing as she just got abducted and is most likely now on Vanaheim, I think this qualifies." His tone is serious, far more so that even Bruce expected. "Jaycee is suffering from an adrenal fatigue disease, one that there is no cure for. It attacks her body when under stressful situations and she can't breathe, can't control her heartbeat or any of her reactions. If we don't get these vials to her soon, she won't make it through another fight, let alone a stressful situation and my guess is that she's already in one."

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The goblin crashes into the pillar, back snapping on impact. Tyr then upends the dinner table, sending the roast flying, vegetables spraying like organic confetti across the hall. Hel watches is disgusted fascination as Tyr rages throughout the hall, destroying anything he can get his hands on. She waits his outburst out, knowing that son he will turn to her, foaming like a rabid dog with accusations on his lips. He's so predictable that it's laughable that he managed to come up with the plan to destroy Vanaheim and use that silly Midgardian company to locate the princess. She doesn't underestimate his cunning, only the size of his brain when he has moments like this.

"Are you quite finished destroying my décor?" she asks when Tyr finally takes a breath. "We have things to prepare, in case you have forgotten," she says silkily. She sips from her glass of wine, letting the liquid linger in her mouth before swallowing, liking the taste of rotted grapes. "The last siege towers still need to be built."

Tyr looks at her with rage in his eyes that slowly dims. Hel stands languidly, letting her gown puddle around her ankles as she glides toward him. "Calm yourself my lord," she says, drawing her bony hand up and over his chest. "This is an opportunity, not a setback. The girl is now on Vanaheim and you don't have to kidnap her yourself. Her precious Avengers will battle those stupid rebels to get her back, distracting her from your attack. It's almost too perfect," she purrs, bring her face close to his.

Tyr looks at her with adoration now. "I know, my lady," he says, encircling her waist with his hands. "I needed to vent my frustration without attacking too soon. You know I tend to be impulsive when it comes to my plans for revenge. You temper me."

Hel batters her eyelashes at him, one white set and one black. "Soon, my lover, soon," she says running her hands up and down his muscled chest. "Soon Vanaheim will be on its knees and that pesky little Midgardian bitch will be at your feet for the rest of time. You should make her immortal you know," she suggests.

Tyr pulls back slightly, looking confused by the suggestion. "Why would I do that?"

Hel laughs, a sound both musical and very much like a rattling death cough. "So you can torture her for eternity. If the trickster fails, I'd bring her back to life every time you kill her," she cackles.

Tyr pulls her closer. "I love the way you scheme," he says into her neck.

The Goddess of the Dead smiles cruelly.

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They pass through the portal in the blink of an eye and suddenly they are no longer on Midgard.

Loki surveys the surroundings as quickly as he can as the men hustle him along. They seem to be in the basement of a building, something simple, constructed from wood. Light filters into the room from small rectangular windows placed high on the walls. There are strings of herbs and garlic hanging from the rafters and long tables with benches made from a red type of wood set up like a dining hall. They must be in one of the rebellion's safe houses, possibly in a larger city judging by the calls of merchants outside.

The Vanir men throw empty bowls and utensils on the floor, cleaning a full tabletop off and then place her gently on top. There is blood everywhere, from her injuries and theirs and Loki notices for the first time that he is bleeding from a laceration on his leg as well. It's nothing major, but it definitely twinges when his guard, Remorag, pushes him up to the edge of the table.

They rush about, yelling commands at each other in Vanir, the leader watching with worried eyes. They bandage her chest and back, the cloth rapidly turning red and try to force fed her potions and tinctures to stop the seizure that is racking her body. She continues shuddering in an unnatural way, a cold sweat dripping off her body. If they can't stop this, eventually her heart with be overloaded to a point from which she cannot compensate or return. She's dying in front of him, and bound and guarded he cannot do anything. Any time he tries to get any closer to her, Remorag pulls him back, digging beefy fingers hard into a shoulder that will surely show bruising soon.

The Vanir leader looks at Loki consideringly when the third potion does nothing to stop the grip of the attack on Jaycee. "Can you help her?" he asks Loki. "You know more of her power than we do. Is there something we can do to mute her powers or stop this seizure?"

Loki nods even though he does not think this is a side-effect of her power. He does not know what he can do, but he knows that if he can get closer to her, maybe touch her, he might be able to read her thoughts if she is projecting anything. Touch has always amplified her power in the past. The Vanir leader nods to Remorag who begrudgingly lets Loki go. Loki approaches Jaycee whose movements are wild, blood on her hairline where the golden rings still in her hair have dug into her scalp. He kneels on the table next to her, trying to think of anything he can to stop this attack before she…. She dies.

Her body shakes against his, her eyes glassy and unfocused. He can feel the muscles in her body tightening, clenching and releasing in spasms. "Jaycee," he says, shaking her awkwardly with his hands still bound in front of him. When she doesn't respond, not even to his mental intrusions, he shakes her harder. "Jay!" he half yells, desperation creeping into his voice. Her body gives out then and the sudden change in weight has him toppling forward on top of her, both of them crashing hard into the table. Loki curses viciously, reaching out with his mind to try and pry hers open to see what the problem is. Normally she pushes back against him hard so he'll be able to tell what is happening.

He is almost floored by the agony that hits him. He can't imagine how she's still conscious. Her eyes are watering, real tears soaking her lashes. There's nothing but pain in her mind and he finds himself getting pulled in. He feels her small, blunt nails dig into his arm, shocking him back into his own body with the image of a syringe and vial of liquid in his mind.

It takes him a full moment to understand and then he's scrambling to dig into her pant pockets, looking for the things she showed him. Remorag grunts something unintelligible in Loki's frenzied mind but he sees the Vanir leader pull the bigger man back, letting Loki work. Jaycee vibrates on the floor underneath him, eyes bloodshot and limbs jerking around. His hand closes around the vials and syringe in relief and he pulls them out into the light. With horror, he sees that the syringe is cracked, most likely from one of their falls tonight.

Realizing what he has to do, he looks at the Vanir men. "I need to get this liquid into her," he addresses the leader. The man nods in acknowledgement and kneels at Jaycee's head, laying his hands on either side of her face. She's shaking so hard now that Loki has to straddle her body, pinning her arms down with his knees, no easy task with his hands bound. The leader helps him pry her mouth open and Loki dumps the contents of the vial between her lips.

He holds her mouth shut pushing his hands up under her chin the best he can, forcing her body to swallow since she isn't conscious enough to do so. When she finally does, her back arches high, trying to buck the two men off in a self-defense mechanism. All her muscles tense at once and then go slack. He bangs his knee into her chin, a bruise instantly rising on her pale skin. He rolls off of her as she turns to the side and dry-heaves hard, coughing so forcefully that he is afraid her lungs are going to come up. The Vanir leader gently strokes the sweaty hair out of her face and Loki absurdly wants to remove the man's fingers one by one. The awful retching soon turns to muted sobs that shudder through her upper back.

The Vanir men watch in silence as Jaycee Strong comes to, looking like anything but royalty, face and hair drenched with sweat. She squints as if her eyesight has been affected, breath coming faster as she assesses the situation, seeing unfamiliar faces and places. Loki can see the reaction on her face and knows that whatever just happened was a result of high stress and if it happens again he doesn't have another vial of the liquid. He firmly takes her face in his bound hands and makes her look up at him. Her grey, steely eyes lock on him, her lips slightly parted as she shivers from cold and exertion underneath him. He can see his name forming on her lips, a question. She looks so young and vulnerable in that moment that Loki almost forgets they are surrounded by Vanir soldiers.

Remorag doesn't. With a growl, he hauls Loki, none to gently off of Jay and the trickster crashes to the floor, wincing as his leg fails to support his weight when he tries to rise. Remorag puts one heavy, booted foot on his chest, keeping him down. He looks up at Jaycee, leaning on her forearm, looking at him from on top the table. She can't form any words, she is so exhausted and drained and he can see her reaching for him, to try and protect him telekinetically but she heaves a heavy sigh and starts to topple off the table. "Syvlk!" one of the younger soldiers yells in distress. The Vanir leader lunges forward and barely catches Jaycee before the joins Loki on the ground. Her body collapses like a broken doll in Syvlk's arms, eyes drifting shut. Syvlk gently lays her on the table on her back, positioning her comfortably.

He then turns to Loki who is still being held to the ground by Remorag. They regard each other for a moment and then Syvlk motions for Remorag to get Loki to his feet. As the burly man grabs his torn jacket at the neck, Syvlk tells two of the younger men, "Fetch her a blanket and pillows to make her comfortable. We drew too much attention upon our return and cannot risk moving to the headquarters so we'll have to make do with here for the moment." The younger men rush away, eager to please, already whispering to each other about Jaycee.

Syvlk approaches Loki, observing the trickster god. Loki tries to summon his persona, the trickster god of Asgard, but he is failing. He tells himself that it is because he is wounded and tired and sick of being a captive. The sight of Jaycee dying in front of him, of feeling her pain has nothing to do with it. Is this concern? He does not like it, this blistering need to make sure she is safe, treated well and will continue to be.

Syvlk's deep voice draws his attention away from Jaycee. "It has been a long time since we last saw one another, Loki," Syvlk says. Loki regards the man, not recognizing him, something Syvlk gives a mirthless chuckle to. "You wouldn't remember every Vanir soldier you betrayed but I suppose that is to be expected. I thank you for protecting and aiding our lost queen, but there are many among us who would see you imprisoned for past deeds. Not many of us can forgive you for betraying Sigyn to Asgard."

Loki almost spits at him, finding his fury again. "You know nothing," he snarls at Syvlk, a sneer coming across his face, almost comforting in its familiarity. "Nothing at all about what happened that day."

"I know you left our queen to die on the battlefield," Syvlk hisses at him, finally showing some emotion. "She was mortally wounded and you left her, led the Asgardians right to her, to let them chain her and heal her so she'd have to marry that one-handed monster."

Loki lunges for Syvlk. Remorag pulls him back hard, cuffing him upside the head. Loki spits blood at him. "You know nothing about what happened that day," he practically yells at Syvlk, Remorag now having to bodily restrain him. "I had no choice."

"I know my people are starving and poor because you didn't stand by our queen," Syvlk snarls at him. "I watched you fail to be a man and defend your love. We all knew it, all saw that you loved her." The words are like kicks to the gut as Syvlk delivers them. "You destroyed her and her people. That was your choice."

Loki kicks hard at Remorag but can't reach, fighting hard now, knowing that these men are angry, knows what they want to do to him. He cares not what torture they can inflict, he has a responsibility to Jaycee, needs to be near her. His bargain with Hel…. time is fading and he hasn't found a solution. He cannot do so without being near her.

"Lock him up tightly," Syvlk orders his remaining men. "I don't want him anywhere near our queen." Loki struggles as they drag him away from Jaycee, unprotected and unconscious on the table.

"You'll need me to convince her to take the throne," he yells at Syvlk when the man turns his back on him. The Vanir rebel doesn't pause. "She won't trust you," Loki says, desperately trying to find some excuse to stay free but his silver tongue is failing him now.

"She won't trust you, when she learns the truth," Syvlk says over his shoulder.


	14. All Roads Converge

Jaycee wakes up with what feels like vicious bruising all over her body. She shifts against the hard surface under her back, trying to stretch the pain out of her limbs. Her memory comes back slowly and she sits up as carefully as possible, surveying her surroundings.

She's alone in what looks like a really well-lit root cellar and kitchen. She is lying on a wooden table, a rough, slightly lumpy pillow under her head, with scratchy wool blankets draped over her legs. Her head feels awful but she's pretty used to that in her life at this point. There is no one around but she still keeps her movements as quiet as possible, wary that someone might be watching her.

She can't remember much of what happened after she felt the adrenal attack take over on the rooftop in New Mexico. She remembers Loki standing over her, bargaining, chains closing over his wrists. She remembers rainbows and if she had to guess she'd say she was on Vanaheim. She knows the rebellion eventually surrounded them on the rooftop and she doubts Tyr would have covered her with blankets if his goblin army had gotten to her first. Loki was with her but she doesn't know where he is now, an unfamiliar pang of worry for him hitting her hard.

Thinking of the trickster brings back memories of his face over hers, yelling something at her, forcing something down her throat, a worried look creased deep on his pale skin as she struggles to live. Oh no. She scrambles in her sweat pants pocket and finds it empty, no extra vials, no syringes. A brief flicker of despair races through her before she viciously pushes it away. Without the beta-blockers, she's a walking time bomb, one adrenal episode away from…. _No, no, don't think about that, you can't control that. Focus on the now._

She is sliding her legs off the edge of the table when a table opens above and a young, blonde man descends the stairs. "My lady!" he exclaims when he sees her sitting up. He comes toward her so quickly that she pulls the blankets up around herself in defense. He invades her personal space, babbling, "Oh thank goodness you're alright! We were really worried about you! So pale and so exhausted and the trickster stabbing you with that fluid and..,"

Jaycee puts up a hand and the man immediately shuts up. Wow, she wishes she could get Tony to obey like that. _So, there are some perks to being a queen_. "Sorry," he murmurs, "It's just that we've been looking for you for so long and now you are here and it's such an honor-,"

He abruptly stops as he sees her rubbing the bridge of her nose, her headache rearing its vicious head. "Water!" he exclaims, still far too ebullient for her. He runs over to the sink, favoring one leg slightly, filling a glass from a silver ewer. He brings it back to her and thrusts it into her hands, almost sloshing it all over her. She takes the water with as much control as she can muster because she still feels very week. He seems ready to burst with words but stays quiet until she has at least had a sip of water. "Anything else I can get you, my lady?" he asks and Jaycee is reminded of an eager puppy.

"I don't mean to be rude," she says, "But I don't know who you are or where I am."

"Oh! So sorry! You're on Vanaheim in the capital, Clarappidium, in one of the rebellion's safe houses. I'm Bjern," he gives her a small bow which she guesses is what passes for a hand shake around here. Suddenly he looks familiar and she peers at his leg.

"You were at the banquet," she says slowly, piecing memories together. "I dislocated your knee. Sorry about that," she says sheepishly, a hot blush creeping up her face. _Great way to meet your subjects Jay-girl, by dislocating knees and stabbing shoulders._

Bjern blushes just as bright and Jay estimates that he can be barely out of his teenage years, so chipper, seemingly without coffee or even tea. "Well, it was a good strike," he says and Jay realizes with sudden clarity that this young man admires her and might be crushing on her, and oh goddess does she not know how to deal with this situation.

Fortunately, she is saved by the arrival of another one of the rebels, a man she has never seen before descending the stairs. His hair is long and dark, haphazardly pulled back at the nape of his neck, curling around the tanned skin of his neck. His eyebrows are slim but clearly expressive as he takes in the sight of Bjern talking to a still blanket-clutching Jay. He has eyes so pale that at a distance they look white. Jay decides he is somewhat attractive in a rugged, I'm-a-rebel way but not quite as attractive as…..

 _NONONONONONONONO. Not thinking about him._

When she has finished mentally berating herself he has come up to her side. "My queen," he says and sweeps a low bow. Then like any movie gentleman she has ever seen, he takes her hand and kisses it and instead of being repulsed like she would be with any of the Avengers or just about any man, Jaycee is flattered because suddenly she is realizing that she really is on Vanaheim and shit, she really is a queen. Her head spins and she lurches in his grip, exhaustion blending with disbelief and she can't keep herself upright.

"Careful," says the newcomer, gently gripping her shoulders and steadying her. "Bjern," he scolds the younger man, "Tiring out our queen already?" The tips of Bjern's ears go traffic-light-red and he mumbles but the new man just laughs. "I jest," he says to Bjern who laughs uncertainly in relief. Jay watches the exchange, seeing an interesting interaction.

"You are the rebellion's leader," she says, a statement and not a question. He looks at her and up close she sees that his eyes are the palest amber she has ever seen, like milky amber.

"They said you were clever," the man says with a smile. "Please, let me introduce myself. I am Njordon, and yes, I am the current leader of the rebellion on Vanaheim. It is a great honor to finally have you home on Vanaheim, Jaycee Strong, great-granddaughter of Sigyn, Queen of Vanaheim."

 _Too many titles_ , Jay thinks, _It's just Jay._ But her brain latches on one word in particular. _Home._

"I apologize," she says, subtly wriggling out of his grasp, no matter how much she could use it to stay upright. "But I'm not sure you are putting your faith in the right person. I'm no queen."

Bjern's eyebrows crease in confusion but Njordon never blinks. "You may never have grown up as a queen or princess," Njordon tells her, "But blood sings to blood on Vanaheim. There is no doubt and no hiding that you are queen here in your homeland."

There's that term again. _Home._ "No, you don't understand," Jaycee protests, feeling each objection getting weaker under Njordon's sure gaze. Goodness he has self-confidence in spades and maybe clubs too. "I belong on Earth, Midgard as you call it here I guess. That is my home. I don't anything about your kingdom, I can't even speak your language-," But here she stops because she realizes that without any conscious thought, she is not speaking English. She hasn't been since she woke. _Oh god, what is coming out of her mouth. How?!_

Njordon sees her bafflement and smiles. "You know the Vanir language like you were born speaking it. You have magic just like all of the Vanir royalty of the past. And you are the true heir to the Vanir throne."

It's all too much for her and she silently thanks Bjern for noticing. "Perhaps she needs some more rest?" he suggests to Njordon. The leader looks at the confusion on Jaycee's face and the earnestness on Bjern's and realizes that her terror is real, not excuses to seem humble.

"My apologies, Lady Jaycee," he says. She almost snorts then, hilarity bubbling up inside of her. _Lady Jaycee._ She's overwhelmed, understanding that this is real, not some dream, not some long off engagement she will have to pick up. This is now, she is on Vanaheim, and oh no, these people truly expect her to wear a crown. She doesn't want it, never has wanted it. Even though the Avengers seem to think she could handle it, the only one who has ever wanted her to become queen is… Loki. Well and Tyr but more like he wanted to marry her and then kill her so that doesn't count. Speaking of the trickster and the one-handed berserk madman, where are they?

"What have you done with Loki?" she ventures. Njordon's face clouds over for the first time and Jaycee sees that even though most girls are probably charmed by him, anger doesn't sit well on his face. It doesn't make him ugly per say so much as wrinkles his face in all the wrong places, displacing his eyebrows in a weird way. Gods, she must still be loopy from the beta-blocker because she doesn't normally react this way. Ugh, this is not good.

"Loki is being… detained," Njordon chooses his words carefully and Jay is sorely tempted to do a little "magic" right then and read his mind. The animosity all Vanir have shown towards Loki is there on Njordon's face just like everyone else. She needs to know the full story. She's missing something critical from the fall of Vanaheim that has cemented this hatred between the rebels and Loki and she needs to understand it or else she's forever going to be in between the two. Jay doesn't like being in the middle. One side of the fence or the other. Straddling it kinda hurts; she knows, since Barton made her climb a great many when he was training her.

"Detained?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and is surprised when a pleased look crosses Njordon's face, making him break out in peals of laughter, clearly surprising Bjern as well. He is unabashed about it, grinning so wide with mirth.

"That look," he says when his gaiety subsides. "I thought I would never see it again."

Bjern gives Jaycee a look that says he is just as confused as her. "You were too young to remember, but that one eyebrow raised was something Sigyn used to do whenever she thought one of us was trying to get the better of her but she wasn't having it. I used to get that look on a daily basis and she was so good at it, so much muscular control over her eyebrows that it made us laugh for hours."

"Wait," Jaycee says, putting some pieces together. "You,… you.. knew Sigyn? But she disappeared almost a hundred years ago…, how..?"

Njordon laughs at her expression. "We are Vanir," he tells her as if that explains everything.

"You're immortal?" she asks in shock, having thought only the gods of Asgard could claim that right.

"Not immortal," he tells her. "We just age very slowly. We reach maturity around our twentieth year and cease to age externally at a rate you would be familiar with."

Baffled Jay lets her nerd slip. "Like Lord of the Rings elves," she mutters to herself.

"Sorry?" Njordon says with a bemused look.

Vanaheim suddenly starts to seem less like a bad thing and more like one of her fantasy or science-fiction novels. She suddenly wants to know everything, wants to see the city. What did Bjern call it? Clarappidium? And the sun coming in the window is more red than she's ever seen even though she guesses it's not morning or sunset. The devices in the kitchen around her a semi-familiar but as if from another age where magic and nature created the machines instead of steel and coal. Her curiosity surges to the surface and Njordon must see the yearning on her face because he offers her a hand.

"Come," he beckons. "Let me show you the kingdom of your ancestors. Let me show you Vanaheim."

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When Barton and Thor enter Nick Fury's "office" at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, they make sure to leave Tony behind. He's been on all sorts of a rampage, trying to convince them that Fury has portals to all of the Nin Realms and in general acting like the child that he is. They left him under guard with Natasha. Thank goodness for small miracles since this is going to be hard enough as it is.

Clint Barton has never liked to ask Fury for a favor. It never ends well and he doesn't want to be in debt to this man. He respects him, begrudgingly acknowledges his intelligence but never ever, can fully bring himself to trust Fury. The business with Jay Strong last year proved how little Fury cares about human emotions. The situation wasn't even remotely handled with finesse and Barton still holds that against him. He will never tell Jay but he was there the night they apprehended her. He's never seen anyone fight that hard to have their freedom and have it so brutally taken from them.

Fury is facing a wall size window, back to them when they enter. Thor immediately approaches Fury even though Barton had warned him to let Clint do the talking. Thor makes no pretense about it, simply grabs Fury by the shoulder, spins him around to face the scowling demi-god and puts Mjolnir right up under his chin.

Fury barely blinks his one eye. "Yes?" he drawls.

Caught off guard momentarily, Thor isn't quite sure what to do and Fury uses the hesitation to push the massive hammer aside. Barton rolls his eyes at Thor who reluctantly lets Fury go. Thor is thinking with his emotions, having just had his adopted brother and pseudo-sister whisked away to Vanaheim. He's been a raging mess in the New Mexico condo and Barton had to get him out of there as soon as possible. They decided that just Barton and Thor would approach Fury seeing as Tony was acting like, well, Tony, and Steve was a live wire again.

"Something I can help you with, gentlemen?" Fury asks, dusting invisible particles of dust off his long trench coat.

"We need to know if you have a way to contact the rebellion on Vanaheim," Thor says before Barton can approach the subject tactfully. At least the big guy gets right to the point.

Fury raises his one eyebrow. "And why would you need to do that?" Clint notices right away that Fury isn't denying anything which sets his senses to tingling. Not even a fake denial. That's almost out of character, almost too rehearsed. Not sure if he should mention it or not, Clint decides to take over before Thor continues to make the situation worse.

"Jaycee Strong was abducted by a rebel pocket from Vanaheim a night ago," Barton tells Fury. "Tyr's army was after her as well and we believe that the rebels got to her first and took her back to Vanaheim."

"Indeed," Fury ponders, still too much I'm-in-a play attitude on his face. "And you think I have a way to get in contact with them?"

"Natasha confirmed it," Barton fires back. "We know you've been talking to the rebel party there. You think it would be beneficial to have another ally should another alien attack occur on Earth."

"Ah," Fury says. "And you think Miss Strong is in danger?"

While Barton stops to mull this insight over, Thor plows on like an out of control Deere tractor. "Of course she's in danger!" He's yelling and Jaycee isn't here to remind him to use his inside voice, not that Barton minds that the demi-god is raring to tear Fury apart. "Who knows what he could do to her given his history with Vanaheim."

"Him?" Fury asks, eyes brightening and Barton curses Tor's lack of common sense.

"The rebel leader," Barton says as Thor is opening his mouth. Clint shoots a meaningful look at Thor that Fury watches with interest. Fury clearly doesn't think that Jay is in danger on Vanaheim, most likely because he wants her on the throne to secure an alliance with the Vanir. Thor almost just gave away the fact that Loki is most likely with Jay and they don't want Fury to know that Loki is back, not yet at least. Barton trusts Jay's judgement on Loki, even if she can't see how her emotions are playing with her thought process. He isn't the greatest threat to her right now and that has to be good enough for them.

"The rebel leader?" Fury asks. "You know him personally?"

"No," Barton replies, measuring his words. "But he ordered the attack on Jaycee at an astrophysics banquet she attended two nights prior. Strong was able to glean that information from the Vanir that attempted and then succeeded in kidnapping her. She sent this to us telekinetically and we acted as fast as possible to get here to ask for your help." He grits his teeth when he says it but he knows that some sucking up may be in order to get what they want from Ol' One-Eye.

"Do you have a way to get to Vanaheim or not?" Thor asks, losing patience. The thunder god is radiating agitation, clearly blaming himself for losing Jaycee and Loki.

Fury considers the two of them for a moment. "I do," he says after a lasting pause that has Clint gritting his teeth again, knowing that the director is drawing it out, weighing the options to make sure he gets his way. "We've been monitoring the situation on Vanaheim for some time. The rebellion is almost strong enough to challenge the Asgardian vassals and I'm not sure that would be such a good thing for us on Earth. We are allied with Asgard through Thor and we would not want the rebellion to destabilize the situation on Vanaheim. Jaycee would be an asset on the throne but I doubt the rebellion has her best interests at heart seeing as they are on the verge of starting a war with Asgard."

Barton logs this away, reading into what Fury doesn't say. He has been monitoring the rebellion to make sure it doesn't succeed. He wants Jaycee on the throne but only so he can control her and leverage an alliance between Asgard, Vanaheim and Earth. Knowing Fury, he's most likely been watching Jay for months, weighing her powers and judging her resistance to him. It was a smart move on his part to remain out of her life because it gave her the illusion that she was in control. Barton shudders to think about what Fury would do to keep Jay in line. Jaycee Strong is a rebellious little thing on a good day and Clint senses that Fury is not telling them something.

"We have constructed a portal with the aid of Asgardian engineers, if you want to call them that, that allows us to send one person at a time through space, the way the Bifrost on Asgard does," Fury tells them as he leads them to the elevator. They descend several levels and eventually arrive on a research floor. "We have used it successfully so far to embed spies in select locations on Vanaheim to evaluate and report on the situation there. I am willing to send you to Vanaheim but on a solitary condition."

And there it is, Clint thinks to himself. Thor is too busy looking around and prepping for the journey that he isn't picking up on the fact that something is very wrong here. "I would request that you persuade Jaycee Strong to take the throne," Fury tells them. Thor begins to protest but Barton cuts him off again, deliberately accepting without hesitating to throw Fury off his game.

The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. does indeed look off-put, but only for the smallest fraction of a second. "It's about time she took the throne," Barton tells Fury, pretending to be Jay and trying to telepathically tell Thor to keep his cakehole shut. "She even agrees and would have eventually come around if the rebellion hadn't made their move."

"Interesting," Fury says. "Perhaps she is growing up after all."

Barton nods, wishing Thor would wipe that baffled look off his face. Gods above Thor would be an awful poker player; his realization of what Clint is doing lights up his face like fireworks. Barton wants to kick him. If Fury notices he doesn't let on.

Fury leads them over to a complicated looking device with a very telling shape that says it is a portal. The machine is designed like an arched doorway, lined with sensors and complicated looking equipment that Barton is sure Jaycee could detail if she was here. Fury flicks switches, turns knobs and suddenly a bright rainbow light lines the edge of the circular archway and then coalesces, forming a bright hole light into space. Barton isn't sure he likes the idea of jumping into a dubiously constructed wormhole but Thor looks like a kid in a candy store.

Fury turns to look at them. "You have three days before I send someone after you. Convince Jaycee to take the throne. It's more important than you know." Thor doesn't stop to consider Fury's cryptic message and steps right in, disappearing into the infinity of space. Fury waves a hand towards the portal, encouraging Barton to go next.

They eye each other for a moment more, clearly at an impasse: Fury needs Barton to convince Jay, and Barton needs Fury to get Jay home. Clint breaks the gaze and steps towards the portal. He's not a great fan of this method of travel but it's going to have to do as he steps through the portal to Vanaheim.

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He steps out of the portal on Vanaheim, surveying the great capital city of Clarappidium from above. People go about their business below him, merchants hawking wares in the street, women hanging wash out to dry. They can't see him up on the cliffs that surround the city from three sides. Pity. He'd love to watch them run screaming away from him as he unleashes their armies on them but he must wait. There are only days now until they set their plan in motion.

Hel steps up to him side, running her long, bony fingers up the biceps of his whole arm. "Look at it," she says, licking her lips like a cat eyeing a fish. "So disgustingly bright and hopeful. What a perfectly cliché metaphor for that little spawn of Sigyn. She'll be down there somewhere, no doubt being introduced to the city by that peacock of a rebellion leader."

Tyr looks at her with a malicious smile. "Don't fret, love. We are so close. It will be a glorious day. Vanaheim, collapsing from the inside, it's rotten core showing. Old Odin won't even raise a hand when we start our civil war. He'll let them tear each other to shreds and then try to subject them to his rule again. The old fool has no idea what he will face when he tries for the capital."

Hel grins, the edges of her dead lips splitting. "Chaos," she whispers, as if she was seducing a lover. "Glorious chaos."

"Goblins and trolls and an army of the dead," Tyr muses. "Should we toast our success tonight or actually wait until the city has fallen?"

Hel pretends to ponder, placing one pale finger on her lower lips and playfully pulling it down. "Hmmmm," she says, rubbing her hands over his chest muscles. "I say we toast to the fall of Vanaheim tonight and then when the capital is ours, we toast again once the crowns are on our heads. With _her_ blood in our goblets. To the new King and Queen of Vanaheim," she purrs.

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Syvlk regards their prisoner from the hallway outside the makeshift cell. Loki glares back at him, his eyes almost luminescent in the gloom. Njordon has gone to talk to the girl, leaving Syvlk to evaluate the situation with the trickster god. Njordon made it clear that he would tell Jaycee the story of Sigyn and Loki and set her perceptions straight but looking at the man before him, Syvlk feels a prickle of unease. They are missing something.

Syvlk is Njordon's second in command but that doesn't mean he doesn't question his leader. Whether or not any of the other rebels have noticed it, he sees the connection between her and the trickster, shining like a visible wire between them. She trusts him more than she trusts them right now. Njordon is charismatic and will most likely talk her around but Syvlk has been observing her for days now before they made their move. Jaycee Strong is clever, a very perceptive young woman and he doubts that Njordon will be able to sweet talk her the way that he has done with all of their female recruits.

Loki doesn't say anything to him, just watches him in that unnerving way that has his guards on edge. He is deadly calm and Syvlk can almost see him calculating the possibilities, finding the cracks in their defenses, in their rebellion, ready to use it to his advantage.

It never sat well with him, the way the past had small inconsistencies in it. He has been told the same story as everyone else, had witnessed parts of it himself. Every Vanir knows the story but as Syvlk watches Loki, and thinks about Jaycee, he doubts that they know the whole story.

He sighs, even then, it wouldn't matter. The tragic "love" story is one told to rebellion recruits to fuel their hatred of Asgardian rule. Syvlk himself feels anger stir when he thinks of how the trickster broke the Vanir queen's trust, sentenced her to her fate. Every Vanir remembers how Loki betrayed Sigyn to Vanaheim, how he captured her and turned her over to Odin in chains.


	15. in Clarappidium

Jaycee Strong might be in love with what she has seen of Vanaheim so far but she doesn't trust Njordon for a moment.

She knows he's hiding a good deal from her. He never answered any of her questions about Loki. He's too damn charismatic for his own good. He inspires his people but they aren't completely trusting of him either; not fearful so much as wary that his moods can turn. She doesn't like his self-assured smile. She's never met a man with so much self-confidence. It's…icky. She doesn't have a better word for it.

But while she is leery of Njordon, Bjern takes to her immediately and the two of them waltz through Clarappidium, the great capital of Vanaheim. Bjern is like the little brother she never had, always excitable, always so happy, especially since he was given the honor of showing the new queen her kingdom. Or, queendom, Jay thinks with a small grin.

She is worried about Loki, the Avengers, her life in general but she really can't help but enjoy herself.

Bjern and Njordon keep her identity a secret from the people they introduce her to, pretending she is a cousin from the far reaches, in the "big city" for the first time. She can't really hide her resemblance to Sigyn all that well and all day people are exclaiming at her likeness. Seeing her discomfort at this, Bjern stops at a market stall and buys her a beautiful silver head scarf to cover her hair with. She struggles to figure out what to do with it for a while, wishing for a baseball cap instead. When she thanks him, he tells her it matches her eyes and then blushes so red that she tells him that he looks like the roses for sale at the neighboring stall.

They start in the market place, emerging from the cellar onto a narrow street full of merchants shouting and hollering at customers and each other, shaking products above their heads. The noise is a cacophony of human activity, colorful and vibrant, with people smiling and talking to each other. There is so much to see even just out of the door that Jaycee can't help it. She grins like a satisfied cat and opens her mind, feeling all of the minds around her. There is so much to experience!

There are vendors selling colorful dresses in an exquisite style she has never seen. Njordon and Bjern let her keep her pants and shirt but gave her a robe to wear over top so as to avoid attention until they can purchase her Vanir clothes. As much as she doesn't want to stay and be queen, Jay finds that she actually would like to learn more about the people here. An older lady selling the dresses exclaims at her beauty and Jaycee blushes as the woman holds up a gorgeously made yellow dress. Jaycee demurs, stunned by the kindness of strangers. They pass stalls overflowing with exotic fruits and vegetables, stands with jewelry made from bright gemstones she has never seen before and her favorite, a small boutique selling hand-bound journals strung together with fabric and leather with pens whittled with miniscule carvings. She could learn to love it here.

As they walk through the city, Njordon and Bjern tell her about Clarappidium. They are in the Middle Ring, the market and merchant level, where most of the business in the capital takes place. The Lower Ring is where the workers live, the Outskirts where the poor and homeless live. Seeing it from afar, Jay is reminded of the pictures of favela in Rio de Janiero she has seen in her voracious study of Earth. Njordon glosses over these parts of the tour and they don't go to those levels although she can tell by Bjern's face that the poverty of these people upsets him. When Njordon is stopped by a merchant friend selling weapons, Jaycee discretely pulls Bjern aside and convinces him with a couple of batted eyelashes to take her there later in the evening.

The Upper Ring sits on a terraced hill above them, crowned by the royal palace. The whole city is surrounded on three sides by limestone cliffs, or at least what passes for limestone in Vanaheim. The cliffs protect the city from attack, Njordon explains, and the tiered structure of the city inhibits a breach of the palace without first passing through the defenses of the rest of the city. There are large walls surrounding each of the rings and Jaycee can't help but notice the tone of derision is Njordon's voice when he talks about the lower classes. It's interesting that no matter where she has traveled in her short life, there is always class structure, always division between people.

They ascend to the Upper Ring, Njordon, greeting many people by name. The streets are paved here with a substance similar to concrete but red in color like the canyons in Utah that Thor took her to one time. The houses are big and expansive, with sprawling gardens and well-tended hedges. Jaycee watches how Njordon interacts with the nobles here. He is well connected and seems to treat each person with respect and dignity but she can see the way his mouth creases in mockery of them as soon as he turns away. These are his connections to the nobility, which he clearly has never been, and are his unknowing spies into the Upper Ring. Jaycee guesses, correctly when she asks Bjern later, that the rebellion is made mostly of Middle Ring and Lower Ring people. When she asks about people from the Outskirts, Bjern is silent, not wanting to incriminate Njordon in anyway. Jaycee lets him off the hook, sensing she is testing his loyalties.

They only gaze up at the palace. Jaycee loves the look of it. It isn't some old keep made of crumbling stones from an old age. The entire structure is a work of art, glimmering with stained glass windows, pearl inlays in the windows, copper gleaming on cupolas. There are frescoes on the walls, pennants flapping in the slight breeze, statues of the spirits of this world. She wants to go closer but Njordon will not risk it. He explains that most of the Upper Ring and Palace are filled with the Asgardian vassals that have reigned on Vanaheim since Sigyn disappeared and the royal family was murdered. Njordon tries to make a joke of it but Jaycee has lived with people who lie and manipulate all her life and the hatred is naked in his voice.

The end up where they started, in the market, where Njordon buys them pastries stuffed with fruit filling and spices that are so strange but pleasant. Her fingers are dirty and she feels like a little street urchin but she doesn't care. She laughs when Bjern grasps his pastry too tightly and filling explodes onto his face. For a moment she feels like a normal girl, a normal Vanir girl, enjoying her day with her friends. She helps him wipe it off and she thinks he might faint when she touches his face. Really, he must learn that she's not that special, she thinks with a smile.

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It's in the Outskirts of Clarappidium that Jay learns about the real Vanaheim.

She is scared, she admits, when she and Bjern sneak out of the rebellion safe-house late at night. Not of Njordon's fury if they are found out or of anyone else in the rebellion. She's read enough and seen enough to know that going into the poorest part of town in the dead of night is no fun mission to pretend she's one of the common folk. What's she's doing is dangerous and there will be no mysterious man who she falls in love with and destroys political injustice that has spanned ages with their love. Ick, no. Jaycee doesn't want this to be one of those stories where the princess naively sneaks out to defy her parents or overbearing protector and then gets into a brawl by mistake. If she gets into a fight, she could get hurt or Bjern in trouble and that will definitely qualify as a stressful situation.

She has no interest in dying in a puddle of her own spit because she got all heroic in the slums and had an adrenal attack.

Bjern wants to hire them a kind of rickshaw-carriage she's seen all over the upper rings today. They look like a cross between a Roman chariot and a Chinese rickshaw and are pulled by an animal Jay has been introduced to as the "frugga". The creature is the comical blend of the legginess of a camel, the general structure of a llama and the pelt of a horse. There are docile and loving creatures that Jaycee loves and wants to test out on Barton. The fruggas are smart and competitive in a race and Jay can already see her and Clint racing through the streets of Clarappidium.

The thought of Clint sobers her. She hopes he got her message and that he can outsmart Fury. She needs allies here in a world teeming with political intrigue and danger. Years ago, she would have insisted she could figure it all out on her own but time has shown her to play to other people's strengths. Clint will come, of that she is sure, she just hopes he remembers to follow through on their plan.

Jay acquiesces and they take the dual-frugga cart to the Outskirts but she insists they walk once they get there. Bjern agrees with her plan but Jay is pretty sure he'd agree with her if she told him she wanted antler implants and a nose ring.

They pull up their cloak hoods and set off, Jay encouraging the frugga to put on bursts of speed that leave her blood singing with exhilaration.

In the Outskirts of Clarappidium, Bjern can hardly keep up with Jay's frenetic pace. She practically vaulted off the cart when they arrived. They may have visited the market in the Upper Rings but the market here is a true agora of human activity, less structured and less banal, full of activity. They buy strange looking fruit, she gets him to dance in the square, and a grimy, saucy, little boy kisses her cheek on a dare from his urchin friends.

It's like being in a gypsy camp, all fascinating sounds and sights of people who live outside the norms of society. The poverty is there; she sees it everywhere, but people aren't vicious or revolutionary about it. These are the real people of Vanaheim. Getting better food and better rights for them is about having the right leader, who recognizes and sees these people; it's not about starting a revolution. This realization makes her uncomfortable because she knows what that means in terms of her decision about the throne. She grudgingly admits that she could make a difference.

Then she stuffs that voice down hard. She can't want it. These people need something better than a messed up ex-experiment from a disgusting planet of people who won't wake up to the reality of climate change and are polluting the air they breathe. Plus, Loki would be smug and she _hates_ it when he's smug.

Almost drunk on the festive night air, Bjern and Jaycee are ascending into the frugga cart to head home when a gypsy woman gently touches Jay's arm. Jay flinches at first, an unfortunate side reaction of her life but forces herself to relax as the woman studies her. She doesn't seem to want anything, just wants to look at her and Jay is starting to feel uncomfortable. Bjern is watching with concerned eyes, one hand on his knife at his belt and Jaycee reaches up to make sure her head scarf is still firmly in place and hiding her hair.

When the gypsy woman sees her touch her scarf, she smiles slightly. "Sorry to stare love, but I would know who you are even with your hair covered," the woman tells her is a husky tenor voice. Jay, who had been turning back towards the cart, stops and looks at the woman, suddenly fearful that she is as stupid as those storybook heroines who accidentally get recognized in the wrong part of town. The woman lowers her voice, seeing Jaycee's discomfort. "I won't tell anyone who shouldn't know, love."

Jaycee suddenly wants to read this woman's mind, wants to make sure that this woman isn't going to betray her. The how of betrayal isn't conventional: betrayal to Jay would mean that the woman tells everyone Sigyn's heir lives. Looking at the woman, Jay can tell that the woman can see every thought that just passed through her head, a clairvoyance in her gaze that unsettles Jay but also strikes a chord of familiarity in her. Do….do other Vanir have…abilities?

The woman pulls her close and Jay lets her, waving away protective Bjern. "I am Dorany, I work at the Falconer Candle shop," she whispers for Jay's ears only. "When you have need of us, find me there," Dorany says looking deep into Jace's eyes, "We have been waiting for you, Sigyndottir."

Then she is disappearing back into the streets of the Outskirts and Jay is feeling like she has been pulled roughly out of a dream. "Are you okay, my lady?" Bjern asks her and she notices that he has come to stand next to her. She shakes herself a bit.

"Yes, yes," she says, forcing a smile which she knows he will think is real. "Peculiar lady?"

Bjern smiles back and nods. They hop into the frugga cart and Jace watches the Outskirts fall away from her, Dorany's words echoing in her head like a promise. _Sigyndottir._

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Clint and Thor tumble out of the portal onto a rocky landscape with whipping winds and staggeringly beautiful starlight. The landing wasn't smooth by any degree of the word and they both dust themselves off. "Any idea where we are?" Clint asks, looking around and desperately hoping this is Vanaheim and Fury didn't just expel them onto the steppes of Mongolia. Scanning the area, he can see they're on a high cliff and he half expects to see on ocean over the edge but he can neither smell nor hear the sea. Thor is heading for the edge of the cliff and as Clint approaches, he begins to see that there is some kind of golden glow down below.

When they stand together on the precipice and Barton catches his breath in a gasp, Thor says quietly, "If I'm not mistaken, that, is Clarappidium."

The capital city of Vanaheim is laid out before them, a sprawling mass of tiered houses and lanes, bordered on three sides by the weathered red-rock they are standing on. Lantern light from thousands of dwelling swells up towards them, setting the city seemingly ablaze with a rainbow spectrum of fairy lights. The building climb partway up the sides of the cliffs, reminding Barton of a prettier version of Brazilian favelas. The castle is on the highest ground, a labyrinth of architecture, topped with pennants, aglow even at night, hosting some event of dignitaries and vassal lords from Asgard.

"Clarappidium," Thor murmurs in appreciation. "The Bright City."

"Well it certainly lives up to its name," Clint remarks.

"It used to be one of the most famous market cities in all of the Nine Realms," Thor tells him. "When we were younger, Loki and I…," he falters. "We…. We used to travel here on the nights when I wanted a good drink. Vanaheim is famous for its exotic wines." He looks over at Barton. "Loki used to love the gaming halls, although he never gambled. He loved the card games and the tests of intelligence. Said Clarappidium was the best place in the galaxy for a clever person to ply his skills." He trails off, lost in memory.

Barton notices the wistful sadness on the thunder god's face. "Well that's actually rather encouraging," he tells Thor, who looks at him quizzically. "If Jay and Loki are down there, then they're most likely already scheming and plotting to their own goals. Jay will have already escaped and be plotting how to best enjoy the city, get home and avoid the throne all at once, and Loki will be attempting to avoid dismemberment by one Jaycee Strong, find a way to take the throne of Asgard and put us in his debt. I guarantee those two are up to something and my money is on one of them razing the city to the ground before this is over."

Thor can't help but chuckle. "That sounds right. Although after their last encounter, I'd be more inclined to think they are working together. There might be some tension of a variety we hadn't expected."

Barton quirks an eyebrow at him. "Did you just imply what I think you implied?" Thor reddens slightly. "Come on Big Guy, use your words."

Thor, god of thunder, splutters, just a bit as he tries to express that he thinks his former brother and almost little sister might be starting to have…sexual…feelings for each other, no matter how much they pretend to loathe each other. Barton enjoys his discomfort immensely until he finally spits it out which has Clint laughing so hard it hurts.

"You don't believe me?" Thor says with a sad puppy dog face.

"Oh no, I agree," Clint chortles. "Seeing your face is so worth it though." Thor scowls and punches Clint in the arm, which gets an indignant "ow" and a scowl in return. "That'll bruise you oaf," Clint growls at him.

"Awww, poor baby," Thor whines at him. Then suddenly his demeanor changes and he roughly pulls Clint to the ground. Barton makes to protest but Thor makes a quick "be silent" gestures at him and then Barton sees the shadows moving in the night.

He and Thor crouch low in the sparse shrubbery as the towering shadows approach them, the moonless night masking their identities. As they get closer, they coalesce into the forms of three gigantic trolls, the very same that attacked them on the Bifrost over a half a year ago. They are all armed to the teeth, and armed with razor sharp teeth as well. Barton and Thor lie still, not daring to move until the trolls complete their sweep and head away from them.

On a silent motion from Barton, he and Thor follow the trolls, keeping low and out of sight. Thor needs lessons in stealth Barton decides. A wild boar makes less noise. Still, they manage to keep the trolls from noticing them. Although Clint is starting to consider that these trolls might be close to deaf.

Ahead of them a camp comes into view, burning campfires of green flame flickering sickly in the darkness. As they slither forward onto a rise to evaluate the camp, Thor sucks in a sharp breath. The size of the camp is staggering. It sprawls across the top of the cliffs, hidden from viewers below as it is sitting in a depression in the land. Crude tents sprawl for meters upon meters, black fabric strangely silent in the night. "Not good trolls?" Clint whispers to Thor.

The thunder god shakes his head. "Worse," he whispers. He points out other soldiers moving around camp, moving as if it is broad daylight, they are so comfortable in the dark. There comes a sound like bones clicking together and Thor hisses "Skeletal warriors from Niflheim."

When Barton tries to ask him what a "Niflheim" is, Thor shakes his head, his eyes moving across the cliffs, a dark foreboding look in his eyes. He points a finger towards two silhouettes on the edge of the camp, on a rise not far from them. Barton then notices what has Thor so distraught.

One of the shadows only has one hand.

But the other is the one that sends chills down his spine. One half is a beautiful curvaceous woman. Through the other half he can see starlight as he stares straight through ribs and forearm bones.

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When they come in later that night, flushed from their forbidden adventure, there are voices coming from the main room. Jaycee puts a hand on Bjern's chest, stopping him abruptly behind her, her ears pricked upwards in an almost animalistic way, senses on high alert. Bjern wants to ask her want it is but then he hears what she already sensed with her telepathy. It is Njordon speaking and then there is the rumble of an answer from Syvlk.

BLAHBLAH… _only true queen of Vanir blood_ …. BLAH

 _Not ready…_ BLAHBLAHBLAH… _more time to get to know Vanaheim….._ BLAHBLAH…. _Midgardian sickness_

BLAHBLAHBLAH…. _we don't have time_ …...BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH…. _train her later_

 _The trickster….._ BLAH… _she doesn't know…_

She doesn't understand what they are saying but Bjern clearly does since his face creases slightly before he hides his expression from her. She grabs his arm playfully, and says, "Thanks for a great night! I'm thinking I need to get some rest though, still kinda tired from our romp the other night. Could you show me where I can get a good night's rest?" She forces her voice to be flirty and her words to have just a little bit of a double meaning which succeeds in coloring Bjern's ears. He stammers something and then walks her up a couple of flights of stairs.

She tells him goodnight, latches the door firmly and then sprints to the window and flings it open. She can just hear the voices from below, arguing still. The voices are clearer and she catches the end of the conversation.

"Whether or not you think it's a good idea, we need to prepare her for the throne," Njordon is saying to Syvlk. "We'll have to reveal the truth about the trickster to her if that's what we have to do to convince her. His actions started all of this and we need her to end it."


	16. Memories Release Us

"Look at it," she sneers. "So sickeningly bright and colorful. How horrifyingly tacky can they have been, creating a city so… light." She says the last word as if she's just bitten into a five-year-old moldy apple. "I think I might retch."

"And I'm the melodramatic one?" Tyr asks her with an eyebrow raised and that irritating, cocky grin on his face. "Your complexion could use the light, darling."

Hel snaps her teeth at the arm he had being going to put around her shoulder. Tyr backs off, both arms held up in mock defense. His whole hand has a regular shadow but his missing hand casts the shadow of a more menacing kind. Where once were four fingers and a thumb, the head of a spiked mace protrudes, attached to his arm by a metal bracer that coils around his forearm.

"Shouldn't you be polishing your _hand_ ," Hel sneers at him. "Don't you want it to gleam in tomorrow's battle when you use it to knock the trickster's head from his miserable shoulders?"

"Is this a bout of nerves?" Tyr asks her. Hel rounds on him, advancing until they are toe to toe, her hideous half-face right up next to his.

"Impatience," she hisses at him, eyes glinting dangerously. "I have waited years for this," she snarls. "That Vanir whore has escaped me far too many times and now her stupid iteration is down there, poised to claim all that was once mine."

Tyr kisses her hard. She pulls back, slaps him hard, her bony hand drawing blood, then dives back in to kiss him harder than he kissed her. "Soon," he says against her lips. "Our hatred for her unites us, makes us stronger. Tomorrow we raze Clarrappidium to the ground."

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Jay is out on the roof, late at night, somewhere in the vicinity of 2:00am, alone. Rarely does she get a moment with mostly her own thoughts and its bliss to have only vague static buzzing in her brain. There's just so much to consider and she's really, painfully confused about it all.

From here, with her knees pulled up under her chin, she can look up and down at Clarrappidium. She can see the palace with its gaudy lights, silhouettes of Asgardian vassal lords toasting champagne flutes. She can see the mercantile stalls they toured today, still colorful even in the gloom. And she can see the lower ring with its secretive gypsies and fire-light on shanty walls. There's something marrow-deep about it that lures her in with siren song.

She sighs and gently bangs her forehead on her knees. Could she do an extended vacation here? Yes, in a heartbeat. She'd need to pack more beta-blockers or retire to the countryside to take up horticulture though. Vanaheim is in her blood, with a tighter hold each moment she stays here.

And yet there is so much she needs to know still. Why is Hel so, hell-bent on destroying Vanaheim, no pun intended? How did Sigyn do what she did? Could Jay tap into that kind of magic to save these people? How does Loki fit into all of this? At the thought of Loki, her heart stutters a bit. While she will never admit anything out loud, she knows how deep her caring for him goes, knows how linked she is to him. And suddenly, it doesn't matter at all what the Avengers think, or what their shared past is because the next question that comes to mind is the one that matters most.

Who is she, Jaycee Strong, and what does _she_ want?

Maybe this is her long-overdue revelation but Jaycee Strong, in an instant, knows that she is done letting her past, his past and everyone else's opinions shape her life. All her life, she has let other people control her, tell her what to be, and forced her into the role that says she has no control. _Passive character_ , she thinks, and hates it with a fury that astounds her. _No more passivity_ , she thinks, and her gut agrees.

All the injustice she has seen and suffered fuels her, awakens something sleeping. Slowly, she pulls her long-sleeved shirt over her head and looks at the scarred flesh on the insides of her elbows. She feels along the edge of her tank top to the curling mandala on her chest. Once these were marks of grief and sorrow. But for some reason, with her new resolve growing, they start to look beautiful to her in the starlight. They will always be part of her, reminds of how she became who she is now. Jaycee relishes in the realization that for the first time in her life, she is truly ready to take control of her own life, to steer herself instead of letting others define her.

Slowly, Jaycee Strong stands up, the night air rushing through her hair, eyes gazing towards the stars. She doesn't know exactly what it is inside of her that is changing right now but where once she was in control, an ice queen in the palace of her mind, she is now roaring flame, incensed at herself for letting everyone else tell her who to be all her life. She straights her back, gazing into the heavens and sees a twinkle of light wink back at her. Whether it is a sign or not, whether it is Sigyn agreeing with her from beyond space and time, Jaycee Strong will be a pawn no more.

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Clint looks at Thor in dismay. "How are we going to find her down there?"

Thor scratches his head with his hammer. Barton is mumbling something about "should have put a tracking collar on her, it'd be easier…" Suddenly, he has an idea. "Why no send up a lightning strike as a signal?" Thor asks. "Jaycee signaled me similarly when…. When she went for a long run," he finishes lamely.

Barton cocks an eyebrow at him. "It'll also give our presence away to Hel and Tyr." Thor looks crestfallen, then brightens, a little kid with the solution to the problem.

"I'll start up a storm," he says energetically. "Then we'll go to the Outskirts and send up one irregular strike after the thunderstorm is established." Barton considers it. It's not ideal or sophisticated, but Jay has a pretty powerful brain and he reckons she'll figure it out.

"Alright," he agrees. "But how do we get to the Outskirts? In case you haven't realized, we're on the top of a cliff." Thor gives him a grin that reminds him far too much of Jay. "I'm not going to like the answer to that query, am I?"

In response, Thor starts to swing his hammer in a circle, increasing in speed with every rotation. Barton sighs, a long-suffering sigh of the parent of a teenager. Thor hooks one arm under Barton's shoulders and across his chest as if hugging a muscly teddy bear. "Clench up, Legolas," he says very seriously.

Barton chokes hard on a laugh. Thor looks confused. "Isn't that what fellow humans say to each other before taking flight? Like dancers say break a leg?" Thor asks.

Clint is laughing too hard to answer. Thor admits defeat in his battle to learn Midgardian idioms and takes off, pulling a still laughing Barton along.

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Hours alone in this cell have slowly reminded him of all that once happened here on Vanaheim. It was decades ago, and yet a lifetime. He knows the Vanir will have told Jaycee his sordid history here on this world and that she will hate him for what he did to her ancestors. Yet, Loki, god of lies, cannot help but wish that there was a way to make her understand why he did what he did.

He paces in his cell, back and forth, mindlessly counting the tiles, arms still shackled behind him. The metal has worn at the skin of his wrists but he hardly notices, he's so lost deep in his own thoughts. She consumes his dreams and is now invading his waking hours as well and he almost want to loathe her for it. But when he tries to extricate her from his mind, all he can see is her dying on the table or fighting by his side or cocking her head to smile at him, something close to…. Caring, in her eyes.

So lost is he in his thoughts that he doesn't register the presence of someone else in front of his cell until moments after he or she has arrived. Expecting to see Syvlk or Njordon here to torture him some more, he is utterly unprepared to find the object of his ruminations gazing at him through the cell bars.

Jaycee Strong stands in front of him, eyes glowing bright in the dim light from the high inset windows above the cell. There are no guards around, just her and there is a look on her face that he can't place for a moment. By the time he places the expression as an internal argument, she has swung the door open telekinetically and entered the cell.

She walks towards him, slow, eyes searching his face. He thinks she's here to mock him, to question him but she doesn't stop in front of him and stare him down like he thinks she's going to. Instead, she circles behind him and to his great surprise, she unlocks the chains around his wrists.

"Are you hurt?" she murmurs as she sets the chains on the ground. "I told the guard to take a break, so we have a few moments alone if you need to heal."

He stares at her in abject astonishment. Feeling Loki's gaze, Jaycee looks at him in concern. "Is there anything I can do?" she asks him, looking so much like the woman he remembers from all those years ago that he starts to wonder if he is in a dream. She's so bright it's physically painful to look at. "Loki?" she ventures. "Say something. You're scaring me."

"How can you be so kind," he whispers. Jaycee's eyebrows crease in confusion as he walks towards her. She backs up, matching his pace step for step until he has her backed up against the cell wall. Something flickers in her eyes, not quite fear, but unease. He brackets his arms around her against the wall, hands flat against the stones, trapping her. "You should hate me for what I did. They told you, I know they did."

Understanding flickers in the space between them and she looks so fragile, tiny lips parting to tell him, "No they didn't. But I know enough to intuit what it was." The kindness and,…gods, the forgiveness is still there, maybe stronger than before on Asgard when he released the block in her mind. "Why are you so determined to make me hate you?" she whispers, piercing him with those riverstone eyes.

To his horror, his voice cracks. "You should."

She reaches up to cup his face in her hands, and he is stunned by the change in her. "But I don't. I can't." There is a seriousness to her and a surety there that he has never seen before. The movement of her fingers on his face is so tender and she gently rubs her thumbs over the small needle scars around his mouth. Rational thought deserts him and he wants to… no, he can't. Loki is so confused, so unsure that instead of doing what he wants, he lashes out in rage and hurt.

He dives into her mind.

In his body, he feels her go rigid against him, her gasp of shock on his face. Deep in her memories he plunges, finding not only her memories but the memories from Sigyn, the devastating ones he shares. He drags the memory to the surface, hating how he hurts her to reveal the ugly truth. He bolsters the memory with his own and shows her all the reasons he should loathe him.

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Sigyn looks at him with those thunderstorm eyes he loves and yells, "Go!"

When he doesn't move from his kneeling position at her side, she tries to push him away despite the fact that she is bleeding heavily and lying weak on the ground of the battle field. Dead Vanir comrades surround them, the sun dipping red towards the horizon as the sounds of the continuing battle rage. "Get out of here!" she urges him, and her breath runs out by the end of the plea, turning her request into a sob. "You're worth far more to everyone if you're alive," she says and they both hear "alive to me" in her words. "There's no point to having them discover your complicity in this."

"You're a fool if you think I'm going to leave you here, bleeding out on a battlefield," he says, cradling her head on his knees. He tries to move her upwards towards standing but even the act of shifting her weight causes Sigyn to wince in agony. To his horror, he sees the wound is worse than she let on, her would abdomen soaked with blood. Her eyelashes keep fluttering and she's slipping fast away from him.

Scanning the battlefield for any source of inspiration, he can't help but see that she is right. His defection to the Vanir side is known only to the Vanir and if he is discovered he will have no power to help her people when defeat ensues, which they both know it will. The woman he has come to love is dying in his arms unless he can find a healer. He viciously regrets having never learned any healing spells. Sigyn's eyes close and he grabs her chin and shakes her head to rouse her. "No, you don't leave me like this," he whispers fiercely.

Then, in the span of a moment, he sees the solution, the horrifyingly perfect solution. He looks down at the princess of Vanaheim, the symbol of hope for her people and whispers in her ear, "I won't ask you to forgive me." He clears the filmy haze that has clouded his eyes. Her grey, grey eyes look up at him, seeing his resolve and she tries to say something but he roughly jams a wad of cloth into her mouth and quickly ties it in place with what remains of her jacket. She gags hard, betrayal seeping into her eyes. He grabs her wrists and ties them tightly together behind her with his belt. Her eyes light up with understanding, having guessed his plan and she struggles, but she's still bleeding and is breathing hard now through her nose. She shakes her head at him hard, moaning, half in pain and half in denial.

He hauls her to her feet. She reminds him just how strong she is by trying to launch a magic attack at him, one which he barely blocks. In his mind he's screaming a steady litany of apologies that she cannot hear as he presses his fingers into her wound. She gives a harsh, muffled scream. He holds his hand there to slow the blood flow and simultaneously keep her from trying to stop him again.

They approach the main battlefield, her body getting heavier by the moment. When her eyes droop, he viciously pushes his hand against her wound. She jerks against him every time with a gasp and it tears him apart further every time. He spies Odin dueling with the king of Vanaheim and clears his throat, coiling magic in his vocal chords to amplify the sound.

"King Arctinius of Vanaheim," he booms as he puts his dagger to Sigyn's throat. She sways against him, barely conscious and he pleads to whatever powers may be that she lives, because living means she can hate him for this later which he rightly deserves. He has the attention of the whole battlefield now. Odin and Arctinius are staring at him, the former in cold, calculating shock and the latter in furious despair. "Surrender to the rule of Asgard, or I will end what little remains of your daughter's life."

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When he finally releases her, Jaycee Strong collapses into his arms, utterly spent, blood weeping from her eyes. The expression on her face is sheer devastation, the very way he felt when he committed that treachery all those years ago.

He holds her there for a moment as she tries to steady her breathing, to stop the sobs. Hesitantly, he winds his fingers into her curls, pulling her close. She doesn't resist, sagging into him. He feels her fist hit his chest, but there is no rage behind it, just aching hurt.

After a period of time that lasts forever and only milliseconds, a period of time that he wishes would never end, she pulls away from him and wipes the blood from her eyes with her sleeves. He braces himself for her rejection and rage, something he can deal with even if it robs him of any chance of redemption. And with a start, he realizes that he does want to be redeemed, wants a balancing of debts. Only the woman facing him can grant him the forgiveness he needs to have any chance of freedom from his memories.

He dares to look Jaycee in the eye.

She doesn't look at him at first, won't do it, so he steps away to give her space. He can almost hear her thinking, deciding what to do.

Then she looks up at him, eyes sparkling with power in the darkness of the cell. "No more lies Loki," she growls. "It's more than just that memory. Something about Hel, something about me, I can feel it there, hidden in your mind. Don't keep it from me."

Her eyes are bright with tears and he cannot fathom how she has worked it out. Not that it matters because if he lets her know this one last secret, she'll leave for sure, reject him as everyone else has his whole life. He shakes his head at her and something hardens in her eyes.

"Fine," she says, her voice strong in the dark. Quick as a viper, her hand snatches out and grabs his wrist. "We'll do it my way," she growls and slices into his mind.

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He is so shocked by her mental attack that he can't throw up a barrier to her entry fast enough to stop her from diving into his thoughts. He tries to conceal emotions, hide away feelings but her presence inside him doesn't care. She focuses and hones in on one thing and only one thing, her mental projection like shards of glass against his consciousness.

He feels her grab onto his other wrist in their physical bodies to strengthen her connection, amplifying her power. He can't pull away, can't fight her in either mental or physical form. When did she become so strong, so in control of her powers? She is so much more powerful than she ever was on Asgard. She flares like a sunspot in his mind, brilliant and burning with determination, her movements deadly accurate.

It's not until she reaches the barrier in his mind that he understands her purpose. The barrier Hel placed in his mind to keep him from talking about her is a seething mass of shadows, wraithlike and maliciously black and dark. Jace is a pinprick of light in comparison, her sun overshadowed by a black hole. Never has she seemed more small, but never has she seemed more capable and determined.

 _Do not resist me_. Comes her voice in his mind. As if she knows that he almost wants the barrier to remain in order to protect her from the truth. _I know Hel blocks your voice and you do not want me to see these memories, but the time for these secrets is past._ How she guessed Hel is behind his silence, he cannot guess. _Loki, trust me_ , she entreats. _I….I care for you…._

And even though he knows how much this will hurt, how much it will shatter parts of his psyche, he drops all resistance and lends her his power.

She gives no indication, no speech, and no quarter, and is not distracted by the hissing wrath of Hel's power within him. Jaycee simply takes everything she has inside of her and destroys Hel's barrier in his mind.

His memories swarm her, glimpses of his time being tortured by Chitauri after Hel gave him to them as part of her revenge, glimpses of Hel's palace of the dead, glimpses of Sigyn's near-death on the battlefield. The memories rock her back, even in her physical body. She sees all his lies, feels all of his emotions, knows him almost as intimately as she knows herself. With the force of a punch she slams back into her body, head snapping back, armed with new and dangerous knowledge.

Loki holds her as her breathing comes back to normal, not wanting to touch her but hating to let go. Blood is pouring afresh from her eyes and there are tears of pain as well. She presses a hand to her temple, eyes narrowed in pain. Her fingernails dig into his forearms and he relishes the pricks of pain, knowing he deserves it, he deserves all of it because by now she knows that they both have expiry dates.

But when she looks up, her eyes aren't full of rage. She looks at him with forgiveness, still, even after everything. He chokes on the words, practically spitting them out. "Now do you feel better? Knowing what you know?"

She cocks her head at him, birdlike and wonder of all wonders, she smiles. Very quietly she says, "Do you still think Hel has control over our lives?"

Confused by her question, he hesitates before searching in his mind's eye for the spell Hel embedded deep in his body, the spell that would kill both himself and Jaycee if he failed to deliver Jace to Tyr. It's not there. _It's not there._ He looks up at her in shock.

"Magic?" he gapes at her. She shakes her head and taps her temple. "How?"

"Does it matter?" she asks. "We're free of her. I don't care what she was trying to make you do. You still fought for me that day on the Bifrost, even further than I ever thought possible. I owe you my life, Loki. You were tortured for saving me, silenced and spelled to do a terrible thing. I do not hate you for any of what we have suffered. I loathe her for making you suffer for me. There is nothing to forgive, so stop trying to make me hate you. I can't…I can't hate you.. Not after everything…," She trails off, unsure, her bold words fading with her own growing fatigue.

He steps towards her and she waits for him, back to the wall of the cell. She doesn't shrink from him this time, instead meeting him gaze for gaze, eyes so alive and beautiful. He reaches for her, brushing a stray curl away from her face, cleaning away the bloody tears with his fingers, his hands slowly drifting to her shoulders.

Jaycee feels her heart rate thumping in her throat and chest and every nerve ending is tingling at his proximity. He has her backed up against the wall, hands pressing bruisingly hard into her shoulders. He's looking at her with an intensity that's frightening. She's breathing hard, body starting to fire adrenaline into her muscles. They stay like that for tense seconds, inches away from each other. Then he closes the distance and kisses her hard, full on the mouth.

She stills for a moment. And then kisses him back.

There's no space in between them anymore and somehow her hands end up wound around his neck and his hands are under her shirt, burning lines against the skin of her hipbones. His thumbs press into the hollow spaces at the top of her waistline and his fingers curl around her back, pulling her closer. The backs of her shoulder blades are flat against the wall, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip.

One of her little hands fists into the hair at the nape of his neck and he shudders. She pulls him tighter and he swears, for a moment, he can feel two souls in front of him. He can feel the residual presence of Sigyn, yes, but he can feel Jace even stronger, the pulse of her heart, the strength of her determination. This isn't coming from a memory; this is real, now.

Just when he feels like he can't breathe, she gently pushes him back. In her eyes is a sort of surprised pleasure with herself and she looks at him under lowered lashes. He is so shocked with himself as rational thought returns that he is momentarily tongue-tied. Jace must know this, either from her telepathy or her intuition because she very quickly pecks a kiss on his cheek and slips past him towards the cell door.

He turns, mind still not caught up with body as she turns to look at him from the cell door. "I'll be back for you," she says, voice husky, words ringing true and powerful in his ears. "But first, I need to do something. I will come back," she promises and leaves him standing alone in his cell, lips still warm from her touch, still unable to form words. All Loki really knows is that with all that just passed between them, they are now inextricably linked, whatever happens next.

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When Jay emerges from the cell it's almost dawn. There is some kind of electric current in the air, or on her skin or in her mind; she's not sure she could pinpoint it if she tried. FRAZZLED, major brain frazzled. But she's not so far into the corn-field that she misses the first drop of rain landing on her cheek.

Now she may seem like a complete scatter brain, and she's definitely a little flushed right now, but Jay is always in tune with her surroundings and the night was perfectly clear not an hour before. Now, massive storm clouds are roiling before her eyes and she can feel the inflow of a breeze tickling the fine hairs on her arms and stirring her curls. More rain drops pad down around her, growing in size and frequency. A strike of lightning spikes through the sky and then she's sure.

She hits the streets at a run, heading for the last lightning strike, rain slapping against her skin. That stupid set of biceps is probably going to try to signal her and will give up his presence to anyone smart enough to recognize what he's doing. She sinks deep into her mental reserves and sends out a signal of her own.

 _THOR!_

A muscly shadow jerks in the sky. She swears she can make out two people flying so she opens her mind wide to see who he brought along.

…. _Iron Man is a way smoother ride…_

Clint. She grinds, sending out a mental shout, _BARTON!_ At the rapidly approaching dead end of the street, she vaults up onto a hay cart, springs onto the window ledge and shimmies up a wooden drainage pipe to gain the roof. She runs along the tiled top of the house, waving her hands, curls plastered to her face by the downpour. A slash of sheet lightning illuminates the night and she jumps up and down, hoping "Hawkeye" is more than just a cool nickname.

The shadows adjust course and speed towards her. Thor and Clint barrel into her with all the grace of a herd of rhinos in a dessert bar. She lands with a hearty exhale, all the wind knocked out of her, directly under Barton, who himself is pinned by Thor. Mjolnir is dangerously close to her temple and Thor's hair has somehow ended up in her mouth. That had better be an arrow sticking into her side.

It takes several moments to disengage, during which Jay spits out Thor's hair, which smells suspiciously like her shampoo, Clint's arrows get caught in Thor's cape and Jay accidentally elbows Clint in the groin. When they're finally separated and breathing hard as though just finishing an interdimensional race, Jay decides to go first. "I take it you got my message?"


	17. Hidden Motives

"So, let me get this straight," Njordon says. "Thor and the archer are from Midgard, Hel and Tyr plan on attacking Clarappidium by nightfall if not sooner, and Jaycee released Loki from Hel's spell that would have forced him to kill Jaycee?"

Jay shrugs. "No offense to Bjern and Syvlk but if they had spied on me for a few more days, they would have realized that disorder and havoc are the two pillars of my MO in a nutshell. This? This is business as usual."

Njordon, for the first time since they've met (two days ago, give or take a few hours), looks like he's afraid that he's going to lose control of her. _Good,_ Jay thinks to herself, careful to keep her pleased look off her face. She can't let on that she's suspicious, not yet. All the pieces are not yet in their proper places. A memory of Loki's pleased sneer crosses her mind and she forces him out. _No, sweetheart,_ she tells him mentally, _I'm not your protégé._ Then with a mental grin she adds, _I'm going to surpass you any day now._

Clint draws her attention back to their emergency powwow. "The combined forces of Tyr and Hel number in the tens of thousands. While the city is located exceptionally well to withstand a siege, I highly doubt their plan of attack will be focused on outlasting you. The attack is imminent and from past experience with Tyr, will be brutal with no quarter."

"But is he the one in charge?" Syvlk asks. Barton and Jay don't miss the withering, silencing look that Njordon sends his way.

"You think Hel is in charge." Barton directs his question at Syvlk.

"Of course she is," Jay interjects, standing against the doorframe with arms folded in a flippant manner. "She's the woman, or half-woman as it were."

Now it's Clint's turn to shoot her a look. "A little heavy on the sass from someone who hasn't served her time-outs for getting kidnapped and then engaging Loki without supervision."

She waves his bluster away with much more attitude than even he is accustomed to. But there is a faint blush on her cheeks at the words 'supervision', almost as if…. Now he's definitely suspicious. "First," she drawls, " You can't blame the one who got kidnapped for the kidnapping. Blame for that falls squarely on this happy band of rebels," she says. Jaycee looks at Syvlk and Bjern. "No offense, boys."

Before Barton can interrupt this newly confident version of Jay, she continues. "Second, by visiting Loki, I learned that his actions have been entirely fueled by Hel's influence in his mind, which I should also add, comes after handing him over to the Chitauri for torture and then giving him an expiration date." She doesn't mention that the expiration date also applied to her, and what Loki would have had to do to live. "Hel sent him back now to monkey-wrench me and it worked for a while. She didn't anticipate the rebellion's need to get me here so soon or else she and Tyr would have conquered Vanaheim before the rebellion made a play for the throne. Another reason to stop dispense with the blaming on the kidnappee, and yes that is a word."

Thor looks distraught by this news of his brother and Clint watches as the harder exterior Jay had been exuding drops away and her kindness shows through as she gives Thor the kind of look that brings to mind an image of a mouse consoling and elephant. While Jay greeted them exuberantly the other night, Barton has been watching her, evaluating the small difference slipping in to her character. She's slightly more closed off to him and yet more confident, almost as if she's holding al the cards to a deck that he didn't know she had. She's hiding things from not only him and Thor.

"I concur with Miss Strong," Syvlk says in his rumbling voice. "Hel is definitively the one who will be coordinating the attack on Clarrappidium. She will favor night for attacks as it gives her army an element of camouflage and lends them a greater deal of terror. Her army is legend in the Nine Realms and our people will be panicked."

Bjern chews his lip nervously. "Where will she strike first?"

"I'm not sure that's quite as critical to answer," Barton says. "What kind of defense are you able to mount when she does, because time is not in our favor and her attack could come as soon as tonight."

Njordon gives a heavy sigh. "Clarrapppidium is so fractured between the Asgardian vassals, the rebellion and everyone else. A concerted effort to rally troops under a single leader may very well result in a civil war. Even together we would barely number ten thousand foot soldiers capable of fighting with perhaps five hundred light cavalry on frugga mounts."

"Frugga?" Barton asks.

"Only ten thousand?" Thor balks.

"If that's the case," Jay says as Bjern tries to explain to Clint what a frugga is, "Time is of the essence." She turns her whole body to face Njordon and Barton sees something of a challenge in her stance. "It might just be time Vanaheim had a figure head."

"Jay..," Barton starts, slightly shocked, and starting to realize her plan and see the queen underneath. "Are you sure?"

She ignores him. Still looking at Njordon, she levels her chin. "We are a rebellion, are we not?" She scans the room and no one misses the fact that she said "we." She meets Clint's eyes. "We need some firepower, heavy-duty, Midgardian firepower. First time for everything I guess because I think I'd like to place a call to the Avengers." She turns to Thor. "Regardless of how Vanaheim and Asgard feel about each other, letting Odin known that Hel and Tyr are about to storm his vassal state of Vanaheim should provoke some kind of Asgardian response."

She talks over the protest starting to rise in the room. "Hel and Tyr are a far greater threat to you right now. We can deal with Asgard when we're alive and well at a later date."

"Thor," she addresses the Thunder-god. She takes a deep, steadying breath and Clint sees the barest hint of hesitation, but she doesn't let it last. "Tell your Dad that we need his help. The former Vanir royal family requests his aide. His reinforcements might give us a numbers advantage and deter the attack for a time. Combine with Clarrappidium's location and natural defenses, that may give us enough time to strategize a way to route Hel and Tyr. There is a greater game afoot here than just conquering Clarrappidium and to have any hope of figuring out what that is, we will need to have the time to do so."

There is a whole lot of quiet when she finishes. Then Clint comes over and spoils her air of command by slinging an arm around her shoulder and putting her in a headlock to muss up her curls. "When did you grow up, Xena?"

She growls at him. "Careful Bird-Brain. Only Stark calls me that. He'll get jealous."

"I agree with the queen," Syvlk says, putting emphasis on the word 'queen' while looking meaningfully at Njordon. "We need the numbers with the time frame we have."

Njordon nods but Barton notices he doesn't look too happy about it. Does he not like being shown up by a woman? But isn't he supposed to want Jay on the throne? That is the point of his whole rebellion, isn't it? Because that's clearly what she's agreeing to do. He'd bet Odin would help them, but he worries what will happen if they win and Odin wants to reassert his control over Vanaheim. Jay will have very little leverage to negotiate on Vanaheim's behalf.

As everyone splits off to make preparations, he looks at Jay. She catches his eye and nods slightly. She knows very well the bargain she may have to make to protect the Vanir people.

"Mr. Barton?" Bjern asks him, breaking Clint's reverie. "We can prepare a portal to Midgard for you." Clint nods, asks for a few moments to prepare, then goes to grab Thor to make some things very clear.

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She realizes that what she's doing is not like her. She knows it's something Natasha or Tony or Loki could do in this situation but she's never liked using people, and she especially hates using their emotions. That's probably years of being a lab rat talking. Jaycee would never wish that kind of betrayal and helplessness on anyone. But she's also a practical woman and she's got to start defining her life someday and she made herself that promise on the roof and she plans on keeping it.

Jaycee adjusts her bra straps and tank top and unzips her hoodie a little more before knocking on the door to Bjern's room.

 _Gods she feels like a hooker in a hoodie. And she didn't even paint her nails. Red lady nails don't interest her…._

When Bjern opens the door her freezes like a frugga spotting a venomous snake. When he doesn't blink for a good ten seconds, Jay is afraid he may be having a heart attack. Or maybe he already had one? Is it really that bad? Discretely, she clears her throat and swings her long curls over her shoulder. He continues to stare. _Goodness, if she'd actually done her nails the poor boy would be having a seizure right now._ "May I come in?" She asks finally, and it sounds so loud in the previous silence that Bjern actually gives a little shake before opening the door and letting her in.

She closes the door behind them, feeling the seductress as she does with her curls dragging across her chest. This feels so ludicrous, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. She stares deep into his eyes, thinking about Sigyn and Vanaheim and all she now has that she could lose. Jay licks her lips slowly and uses her huskiest voice. "I have a favor to ask you."

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Once they are away from prying eyes and ears, Clint pulls Thor to a stop and says in a low voice, "How certain are you that Jay has feelings for Loki?"

Totally surprised by this line of questioning, Thor needs a second to answer. The fierce expression on Barton's face has him off guard a bit so he hedges his answer. "She appears to care for him greatly if she released him from Hel's thrall. I don't even know how she did that to be honest, that's magic of the strongest kind."

"Do you think she's hiding something from us?" Clint asks him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the hallway wall.

"She didn't seem as open as she normally does," Thor admits. "But I wouldn't jump to conclusions with her. You know her even better than I do and Jay has gotten extremely good under the Widow's tutelage. It almost seems like…," here Clint raises an eyebrow at him, "It almost seems like she's acting more like Loki."

Barton shudders. "She definitely is keeping something from us and I really don't like that Loki is involved in it. No offense to your brother, Thor, but I have a harder time forgiving him than anyone else."

Thor nods in acceptance. He considers the situation from all angles and looking back on the conversation he has to point out something to his archer companion. "There seems to be some interesting interaction between Jay and Njordon."

Barton agrees. "She and he seem to be feeling each other out. My guess is that he wants her on the throne very badly but doesn't want to give up his current leadership in a hurry. He wants her to claim the Vanir throne but it almost seems as if he wants to retain power over her actions. He didn't seem all that happy when she contradicted him. We need to watch him more closely."

"Agreed," Thor says. "And asking Odin for aide is a risky move for Jay. Something about it doesn't seem right to me, like she was using it to stall, but not because of Hel and Tyr. Like she was stalling for herself. What could she be up to?"

Barton shrugs. "I've given up trying to understand that kid's mind. Crazier than herding cats but brilliant. It's a scary combination in so small a body."

Thor grins. "Don't let her hear you call her small. She almost gutted me when I said she was 'petite' the other week."

Clint snorts. "Don't I know it. Well, it's back to New York where I get to yell 'Avengers Assemble!' I hope we're in time to help Jay win this fight."

Thor nods solemnly. "Losing Clarrappidium to Hel and Tyr would drastically shift the balance of power in the Nine Realms. Let's hope Jay is up to the task of becoming queen of Vanaheim."

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Loki watches her the whole time she descends the stairs to the prison and finds it unnerving, especially with how… intimate their last encounter was. Oh, ugh, that's an absolutely horrible way to think about it. She feels like they're going to need some serious proximity alarms for each other because she doubts the Avengers are going to be very understanding of their new…. Relationship… which means she'll need to be in total control of her emotions around Loki.

 _Relationship_ …. Blast, that's even worse than she thought it'd be. What a horrific word.

He watches her, almost without blinking, face unreadable, eyes cat-green and almost glowing in the gloom. She stops outside the cell and decides that two can play at this game. Jaycee folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the stone wall, her version of totally blasé.

They stay like that for what seems like days. Hel and Tyr could have razed Clarrappidium to the ground already and they wouldn't know.

Finally, Loki blinks, long and slow. "You came back."

Although he means to state it as a fact, it comes out sounding like a question. She doesn't move a single facial muscle and just waits.

He will not let her outlast him. She has done that way too much lately, putting him on his heels. It drives him to distraction because he both hates it and relishes the challenge it gives him. With a start, he realizes that she is becoming his equal in so many ways and that changes how he acts around.

A smile creases her face, a slow, small one and he curses himself because although she wouldn't invade his mind on purpose in this type of situation, he must be thinking louder than he intended. She cocks an eyebrow at him and it's like looking in a mirror to the past. It's not Sigyn he sees, but himself on her features and it's a powerful combination, one that makes him wonder for a split second whether fate really exists. If so, the Norns are laughing at him right now.

He sighs and acquiesces. "So, what happens now."

She pushes off the wall and,….saunters towards him. That's the only word for that kind of walk. She opens the cell door telekinetically and he realizes there are no guards around even though the rebellion must know what she has done by now. He was never re-shackled and when she's fully in the cell, he approaches her, trying to emulate the predator that has seemed to have deserted his personality. She looks up at him, eyes wary and gauging him. Smart girl, she still doesn't totally trust him, even though they…. Well, it was only one kiss, right?

He needs more information, more time to determine how to regain control of the situation. Despite her forgiveness and their…. _relationship_ , oh ugh, he doesn't like that word, the rebellion and the Vanir people will never trust him. Maybe he can use her as a hostage to bargain his way far away from Vanaheim and Sigyn's legacy. But even as he considers every dastardly scheme he can think of, there are reservations of a new nature there that were never there before. He could spell her to leave Vanaheim but he's not sure his magic will work on her hard head anymore. And truly, his heart isn't in it. Disturbingly, he realizes that they are on the same side for the battle that is coming next.

What has she done to him?

Jace has barely blinked, letting him consider. "Still trying to figure out how to leverage me?" she asks sweetly, and Loki has to make a concerted effort to get all of his facial muscles to stay where they are. She gives a little laugh. "I expect nothing less, you know." She closes the gap between them so that her lips are centimeters from his throat. "The one big mistake you're making right now is that you think I'm not capable of the same."

Before he can process that, she presses the fingertips of her hand to his forehead and whispers something unintelligible. He feels his eyelids flutter, the stutter of a thought in his mind… _magic.. how?..,_ and then the god of lies is out cold at her feet.

Jaycee gives him a small smile and glances up at the prison door, to the figure standing there, letting her tough, seductress act go. "Time to get to work," she tells him, squaring her shoulders and kneeling to pick Loki up. "We have a long journey ahead."

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"My lady," the goblin's voice is raspy, as if he's been eating cicadas and crickets which stayed lodged in his throat. "Your contact is here."

In her black, moth-eaten tent, Hel looks up from the sword she had been sharpening. The goblin blanches under her dual-eyed stare and quickly bows. Hel smirks, enjoying watching the disgusting creature squirm. They fear her, rightly so, and haven't yet gotten used to taking her orders. She'll have to further remedy that after they take Clarrappidium. She's far too reliant on Tyr's command of his army.

"Send him in," she barks, sheathing the sword against her thigh. The sword is a curved scimitar blade with notched edges, part of a matched set. The second sword is sheathed at her other thigh, the blades attached by a heavy chain that twines around her waist. The weapons are like none other; they are the instruments of the Goddess of Death, meant to be lethal and cruel, inflicting pain and dragging out suffering.

The goblin skitters away and her spy enters, dressed in his dark cloak, the hood pushed low over his brow. He doesn't remove his hood in her presence but they are on friendly enough terms that Hel decides not to chastise him for showing her disrespect. The man had to sneak out of Clarrappidium afterall, and shadows are often darkest in the presence of the bright.

Her spy drops to a knee before her, not in obeisance but reverence. She loves the way this man thinks that she shows him favor, that he will gain from this arrangement. Such ambition; she's put it to such good use. "My queen," he says in the mellifluous tones of the Vanir. "The rebellion held a war council tonight. They are planning on sending for reinforcements."

Hel snorts, and odd sound since one side of her nostrils is barely cartilage, mostly bone. "From where?" she scoffs. "There is no one who will come to aide the Vanir. No one has every cared about the fate of Vanaheim."

He looks up at her, his eyes glimmering in the torchlight under the hood. "Unfortunately, Jaycee Strong is proving to be far more clever and….., accepting of her heritage than we anticipated. She has brought Thor and a Midgardian archer here somehow and plans on asking Asgard for aide."

There is a beat of silence in which the spy cringes, fearing Hel's wrath. Then Hel gives a little, surprised laugh. "My, my, she is getting bolder," she murmurs with a smile. "We'll have to remedy that once we take the city."

She stands and begins to pace the room. "Asgard will complicate things." She cracks the bones of her desiccated hand in her fist, an eerie sound as the joints pop loud in the tent. She muses, "We could potentially still carry out the attack but Tyr can call reinforcements relatively quickly. She most likely is stalling; that's interesting. We'll have to hold off," she turns back to face her spy. "Do your best to keep her busy and in Clarrappidim," she instructs him. "We need her busy and in the dark, thinking she has an edge on us."

He nods, rising to his feet. "Consider it done, my queen."

Hel waves a hand at him and her takes his leave. While she is disgruntled at this delay, it also allows her more time to solidify her hold on Tyr's army. Jaycee Strong may think she is making a smart choice, but she doesn't know the whole sordid story. Hel grins, her lips cracking at their meeting point, blood dribbling down her chin. The rightful queen of Vanaheim is coming home and her name is not Jaycee Strong.


	18. Pawn Becomes Queen

When Loki wakes up, there is an ugly, sweet taste in his mouth and a rising lump just below his left ear which is giving him a throbbing headache. The pain is further exacerbated by the fact that he is moving backwards with a rolling up and down motion. He glances between his arms to see the rear end of a frugga and feels a crude rope belt holding him in the saddle.

He glances to the left and sees nothing but rolling hills and the bright sun. He glances to the right and Jaycee Strong wiggles her fingers at him in an exaggerated wave, an annoyingly pleased look on her face.

Loki gives an exaggerated blink and wrinkles his nose. He tries to turn around to face forwards but finds that Jace has run a rope under the frugga's belly, connecting his feet together. He raises an eyebrow at her but she just shrugs, hands up in a comical "who, me?" gesture. He scoffs and then summons a spell to cut the rope. There is a small slice of green light and Loki gives her a smirk and turns to face front.

Or rather, he tries to and ends up half hanging off the frugga.

He blows his hair out of his face and clambers back upright. He looks over at Jay, who simply raises one eyebrow in a scary-good impression of him. Her frugga gives a snort that sounds distinctly like laughter.

"You're learning," he says. "Spell-resistant rope?"

Jay rides up next to him. She pulls out one of his own daggers and slices through the rope for him. She then turns the dagger hilt-first towards him and offers him his own weapon.

And this time she doesn't tense and wait for him to decide whether or not he's going to stab her. She just hands him the second dagger in his matched set and digs her heels into her frugga to gallop away, clearly expecting him to follow.

Finally able to turn around, he shifts his legs and prepares to go after her, a vague revenge planned in his mind, but then catches a glance at what lies ahead.

The Ice Peaks of Vanaheim.

It's been such a long time since he was here, but the mountains still invoke the same feelings of smallness and awe. Memories of his time here with Sigyn, strategizing, planning and fighting to keep Vanaheim out of Odin's hands come back to him. The peaks resemble a sleeping dragon under a down blanket, sharp spikes lancing towards the sky. Vanir legend proposes just that, that a great dragon once flew in the skies of Vanaheim, aiding the Vanir in their quests. When the great civil war occurred, the dragon ended the war by laying across the land, turning itself to stone and creating the massive Ice Peaks that spear across the majority of Vanaheim. The story is one Sigyn told him on their quiet nights here, waiting for battle and as much as it seems whimsical, he always loved to hear her tell the tale.

Shaking off old thoughts, he kicks his feet into the sides of his frugga and catches up with Jace. She's plodding along at a good pace, racing across the golden fields leading up to the base of the peaks, hair rippling behind her. When he pulls alongside she gives him a devious grin and urges her mount faster. Not to be outdone, he races her, the two of them flying over the unsettled reaches of Vanaheim.

Eventually they slow and Jay is laughing, eyes watering from the wind and speed, flushed with energy and joy. When she looks at him, there is something real in her eyes, not the parts she has been playing to kidnap him and shape the fate of Vanaheim. But then, when they catch their breath, her caution slips back into place on her sharp features and she holds her guard up as they dismount to water the fruggas.

Letting the fruggas drink and graze, the two of them find a spot on a sandy river bank under trees that resemble cypress and willow on Midgard. They sit down next to each other, looking out over the river, close enough to talk but not touch.

She sighs, the breeze lifting strands of hair off her neck. She looks at him sideways, eyes clear and honest. "You must have questions?"

He raises his eyebrows at her. "A few."

She gives a small snorting laugh. "If you let me start from the beginning, I'll answer everything, I promise. It's all connected in its way and secrecy was important. Bear with me and save all your questions for the end," she jokes. "It's more complicated than you think."

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After she closes the door to Bjern's room, Jay starts to feel her confidence slipping, completely uncomfortable with this charade. So she does something she hopes will work. She stops acting and starts telling Bjern the truth.

"Sit down, love, before you hurt yourself," she tells him, zipping her hoodie back up. She pushes him backwards onto his bed, which she regrets the second she does it. Oh well. She sits down next to him and rubs her hand across her brow. Freeing Loki took a lot out of her and she was almost surprised it worked since it was her first attempt at using latent powers within her psyche. Her head really hurts.

Bjern seems to come back to himself and hesitantly puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looks up at him, feeling so old even though she knows he's probably decades older than her. "What is it?" he asks her, so gentle in comparison to the man she just was… yeah, don't think about that Jay-girl.

She sighs. "I know the truth about Loki and Sigyn's past."

Bjern gives a sharp breath in and then blows it out. She can tell he doesn't know what to say so she gets up and paces. "I can deal with it, Bjern. I just can't get it out of my head." She doesn't mention that she also can't get Loki out of her head. He doesn't need to know that, especially with how she walked into his room. "I can even forgive him because it was not part of my life, although it affects me now. I know you can't and neither can the rebellion but I can't but help shake the feeling that there is more to this. Why does Hel hate Vanaheim so much? Loki had a block in his mind and that would have been a death sentence for me. I removed it but there has to be something I'm not seeing."

Bjern shakes his head, not having an answer for her. Then his brow creases. "You said you removed Hel's block in his mind," his words are slow as he puts the thoughts together. "But how could you have removed a spell? You don't have magic…." His voice trails off and he looks up at her in wonder.

She shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "I didn't know who to trust in the rebellion so I did what I had to."

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After listening to Syvlk and Njordon argue, Jay is even more convinced than ever that she needs to get a better hold on her own life. She's been pushed and pulled around for far too long by far too many people; thanks, but no thanks. So once the voices die down to a simmering argument, she wraps her hair back up, throws on a cloak against the night air and vaults out the window.

She lands in what looks like a Midgardian rhododendron bush with a none-to-graceful crash. Ooops, maybe she needs to look before she leaps. Finally untangling herself from the branches, and maybe still wearing some in her hair, she sets off at a fast jog, retracing the route she traveled with Bjern. Jay keeps out of the lamp light and it almost becomes a fun game, dodging from shadow to shadow. Until she runs flat out into a pitch fork, cartoon-character-style, and sees stars. It's still fun though. At least the bruises are memorable.

When she reaches the Outskirts, she adopts a more cautious pace. _Don't stand out_ becomes her mantra. Now that she's here, she realizes that she's not really sure how she's going to going to find Dorany. _Crap, should have thought of that Jay-girl_. Then she remember something about finding a shop and starts searching the area.

When Jay finds the shop Dorany told her to look for, she hesitates on the threshold, a wave of uncertainty rushing through her newfound confidence. But she doesn't have time to really backtrack because there are suddenly fingers tapping on her shoulder. She whirls around, dagger stopping inches from Dorany's beaded necklaces. Dorany doesn't even flinch, just slowly smiles at her, her fortune-telling garb glittering in the torchlight. Jaycee slowly lowers the dagger, not quick enough to mean "oops, my bad," but not slow enough to say "I don't fully trust you lady."

The slow smile spreads even wider on Dorany's face and an almost feline look flickers in her eyes. Jaycee holds her eyes levelled on Dorany, working on not being intimidated. Dorany beckons with jeweled fingernails and turns away to walk thru the crowd. This is the moment where she makes her choice. How badly does she want to know? How will it change her?

Hopefully for the better because her feet are already following Dorany. They weave through the Outskirts which is bustling with energy even at this hour of the night,.. or morning. Jay is starting to lose track of the days with just how much she's been up lately. She nervously makes sure her hair is still concealed by the headscarf and her face hidden in shadow. If Dorany can recognize her face, then so can other people. She can't imagine how the general populace would react to the magical reappearance of Sigyn's heir after all these years.

Dorany leads her to a small nook of a shop that Jay would have never in a millennium found on her own. She checks over her shoulder to make sure she hasn't been tailed before following Dorany inside. She wouldn't put it past Njordon to have someone always discretely watching her. His fascination with her has an ugly side she'd already discovered, even after only days. She can see she's a pawn to him when he flatters her; he's not really attracted to her but he's a charmer who doesn't know how else to win Jay's loyalty.

Inside Dorany's shop, Jay focuses herself on the moment at hand. She needs answers. She's not exactly sure what she needs but something has unconsciously been guiding her since she set foot on Vanaheim. Jay of Asgard is skeptical of mystics and crackpot tarot readers but Jay of Vanaheim can't dismiss Dorany so easily.

Dorany gestures for Jay to take a seat at a small table covered in a beaded shawl with fringe, a crystal ball and what appears to be a tarot deck. _She has this down to a stereotype,_ Jay thinks quietly to herself. Dorany pours herself a cup of something that looks like weak tea and then raises an eyebrow at Jay to ask if she wants one. Jay pulls a face. "If it's not espresso, don't both." Dorany grins at her and pours a second cup, setting it down in front of Jay.

"It's better than espresso," Dorany sits down across from her and in this light she looks younger, not much older than Jay although Jay knows she's probably got a century of two on her. "She was always the same way," Dorany sighs, "Only the strongest brew."

Jaycee takes an experimental sip to hide her… conundrum? Here is another person who knew Sigyn and who seems to think that she's the reincarnation and not the great-granddaughter. Everyone sees her as Sigyn reborn, not Jaycee Strong and its starting to give her an identity crisis.

When she looks up, Dorany is watching her shrewdly over the rim of her own tea cup. Embarrassed to not have tasted her first sip, Jay takes another gulp. It warms its wat down her throat and suddenly Jay wants to guzzle the whole cup. "What is this?" she asks Dorany delightedly.

"Brevitasa," Dorany laughs, sipping her own drink. "Made from konubi root powder and used to wake the populace up to do their jobs if not to wake them up to see what Vanaheim has become." Her melodious voice has soured and Jay believes that she's used that line before and is sick of saying it. But, seeing Jay's considering gaze on her, Dorany forces a brighteness back into her face. "It is also used by clairvoyants to sharpen their focus."

Sensing they are coming to the meat of what Dorany wants to tell her, Jace leans back in her seat and asks, "Clairvoyants?"

"Vanir with inherent magical ability," Dorany explains. "Men and women who were born with abilities that transcend the natural."

"I have to assume that term applies to you," Jaycee takes another sip of the brew, and she can almost feel her neurons tingling. "And I'm guessing since you know who my great-grandmother was that you have your suspicions about me if you haven't already figured it out."

Dorany nods. "Believe it or not, you are becoming something of a legendary rumor. It started with the Asgardian barons when Vanaheim was attacked months ago and has trickled to the Outskirts since. The great-granddaughter of Sigyn is alive and well and possesses some interesting abilities. They are saying you are a powerful clairvoyant, some simply because you are Sigyn's heir and other becauseyour mixed Vanir and Migardian blood is a new hybrid of clairvoyancy."

"Charming," Jay mutters. "Don't let anyone on Earth find that out or they'll start a breeding program. Ick."

Dorany nods grimly, "I understand." She looks at Jay, choosing her next words carefully. "Clairvoyants have been suppressed by the Asgardian barons for years now and aren't too happy about it."

Jace looks at her, catching the faintest drift of Dorany's thoughts. "They would be …. Amendable, to a rebellion. Correct?"

Dorany smiles. "Clairvoyants and Vanir alike are sick of Asgardian rule and you just so happen to have legitimate Vanir royal blood in your veins, however mixed they will think your blood is. There are rumors that Tyr and Hel are here on Vanaheim to stage an attack. The so called resistance movement that has taken you in does not have the numbers to repel them, not with the barony still in place. But if the true heir to the Vanir throne were to step forth… well," Dorany drains the rest of her cup. "That would definitely change the power dynamic."

Jaycee lets that sink in for a little while, suppressing her gulp of dread. "I assume you have your own spies if you know that Tyr and Hel are here."

Dorany lifts an eyebrow and gestures towards the crystal ball. "I have my sources," she says mysteriously with a smirk on her face.

Jay laughs quietly. "You think it a good idea?" she asks with a sigh. "Trusting me, whom you don't know with this glorious task you seem to have been working on for years? Who knows, I could be in league with Njodron."

Dorany stares her down. "So you suspect as well?"

Jaycee nods. "I understand ambition when I see it."

Dorany looks at her for a long while, then rises from her chair. To Jaycee's horror, Dorany kneels in front of her and takes her hands. "Then we are at your disposal when the time comes." Jaycee motions that Dorany should get up, uncomfortable with her sudden change of attitude. Until now Dorany and she has been talking like equals but now this seems like a swearing of fealty. Jaycee can't have that, not yet, she's not ready.

As though Dorany is the mind reader and not Jay, the woman looks up at her. "Regardless of your reservations, the clairvoyants of Vanaheim need only see you alive and well to follow you," Dorany tells her. "They remember the history of Vanaheim even if those in the Upper Rings do not. There is a reason why you have come back to us now with Hel on our doorstep. Call it destiny or fate, or call it sheer dumb luck, but you are here as her opposition, to restore our world."

Dorany's eyelids flutter on the last couple sentences and it almost looks like she has gone into a trance before he snaps back to the now. Jay is unnerved, but Dorany's words are still with her. "Hel… has something to so with the history of Vanaheim?" Her voice is unsteady.

Dorany nods slowly. "The stories have been blurred over time. But Hel is connected to the history of Vanaheim. There are temples in the Ice Peaks that have records that deep into history."

When Dorany mentions the Ice Peaks, it is as if Jaycee displaces in time for a moment. She can see exactly what the Ice Peaks look like, can even see the temple she must visit to find answers. The bitter cold is against her skin and when she snaps back into her body, her breath comes out of her mouth in white puffs. Her mouth feels as though she has been sucking on a mint for a long time.

Dorany's eyes are wide. "What did you see?"

Jaycee swallows a couple times, stalling to form the correct words and to process all that she has just witnessed and all that she has just learned. Hel is connected to the history of Vanaheim. The clairvoyant people of Vanaheim know this and will stand by her side. She does not trust Njordon or most of the resistance. She just saw a vision of iced capped mountains in the expanse of Vanaheim's wilderness. And thru it all she has learned one important thing.

She looks up at Dorany. "I saw the place where I must go to learn the truth."

Dorany smiles at her. "Blood sings to blood, my queen."

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When she finishes her tale, Bjern looks absolutely speechless. Uncomfortable, she gets up and paces the rooms, giving a weird looking one-shoulder shrug to him. "I did tell you that you didn't watch me for long enough on Midgard. That and things have been changing lately, …. Well, they've been changing a lot." She runs her hands through her curls distractedly. "I know what everyone here wants from me but I can't deal with expectations if I don't have some kind of perspective of my own."

Bjern gets up and stands in front of her, the most intimidating he's been since Jay has met him. Unsure how he's taking all of this, she slowly looks up at him through her lashes.

"You are so incredible," he tells her, his voice like a sigh. "Goddess, you are Sigyn's legacy without a doubt."

Jaycee blushes bright red at his adulation and gently pushes him away from her, hand on his chest. "Stop that," she mutters. "I'm no queen, Bjern. But I can't pretend that the Vanir people don't evoke empathy in me. Dorany put it best to me. Blood sings to blood. I am Vanir, even though I have never thought of myself as that before."

Bjern gently places his hands on her shoulders. "After all you have told me, and all you plan to do, how can you still be so unsure of yourself?" He asks her in wonder. "You will make a just and beautiful queen for Vanaheim and it will be my distinct honor to serve you." He drops to one knee in front of her.

Jay tries not to blush again but the damn blood in her body all floods straight to her face. Damn, she's actually ending up doing what she had originally planned; gaining Bjern's allegiance. "Oh, get up," she hisses at him, but there is no malevolence in her voice, just aggravation. "We can worry about declarations of loyalty after this is all over."

Bjern gets up with a genuine smile on his face. Jaycee sighs. "You know what I am going to ask of you?" She asks him, eyes starting to look much older than her years.

A shadow crosses his face, but he nods in understanding. "I will help you in whatever way I can, my queen."

She snorts. "Don't start with me. It's just Jay," she squares her shoulders and blows an errant curl out of her face. Knowing there is no point in putting this off any longer she rolls up the sleeves of her jacket and says, "Alrighty then, let's go break the trickster god out of jail."

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Although Jay knows that Loki would never admit to being speechless or admiring her in anyway, she catches the flash of those emotions in his eyes. She runs her hands through her hair, pushing the curls off her face, her new nervous habit. Jay does it so much, she's probably going to make herself bald by the end of the day. She keeps her face turned away from Loki, so that she can better control the emotions on her own face. She's not sure what his reaction will be and she's not really sure what to expect.

Loki clears his throat. "Well….., that was….,"

Jaycee risks a glance at him and decides to go for a flippant smirk. "Pretty damn good?"

He looks at her with the strangest look on his face and she can't place it. Then he laughs. Actually laughs. Jay doesn't think she's actually heard Loki laugh because he finds something truly funny. She's heard the evil cackle, the wry chuckle when he knows he has the whole deck up his sleeve and the chuffs of amusement at her expense he's fond of. But never has Loki actually laughed. She's not sure if she should be insulted or not. After all, it wasn't really a joke. Well, maybe it was.

Catching the wrinkles of thought forming on her brow, he laughs even harder. She raises on imperious eyebrow at him, struggling to keep herself from a full-out smile. When he finally stops to catch his breath, she swings around to face him, both legs over one side of the saddle, one hand on her hip, the other on her frugga's reins. She schools her features into, "okay-enough-boy," and Loki grins at her.

"You're learning," Loki tells her, riding up close, too close. His leg brushes against hers and she shies away a bit at the contact, scowling at him.

"Those weren't your lessons," she tells him, just so they are clear. "I've already passed those entry level classes," she says, with what she hopes if an arrogant hair flip.

 _Oh goddess she just flipped her hair. Is she…flirting with him?_

Apparently he's ready to flirt right back because he rides right up into her space, so their faces are inches apart, as the frugga continue to trot along. She viciously wishes she could convince his frugga to take off. He seems to know exactly what she's thinking and before she can stop him, he's swept her up and off her frugga so that she's sitting facing him on his frugga. She goes positively fuschia and tries to punch him, but he grabs her wrist. She bares her teeth at him but he laughs again, that totally disarming sound and then presses her hard into the frugga's neck with a heart-jolting kiss.

Jaycee's brain misfires. Hard. When it starts to reboot it's one long litany of _FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-_

She hauls off and slams a hook into his chin so hard, she unseats him from the frugga. He rolls across the mountain track with a very disgruntled cursing and then gets to his feet with a smirk on his face as she pulls hard on the frugga's reins to slow the beast to a stop. She hops off, the frugga, and stands between both beasts, hands unconsciously on her hips as he saunters towards her.

"Don't you dare do that again," she barks at him, but she's smiling, shit, she's smiling as the trickster god closes the distance between them, blood beading on his cheek from some nasty gravel burn.

"Try to stop me," he growls, and she sends a telekinetic shove his way.

Her brain scrambles for a comeback. How did this happen? Now he's… turned on by her? Oh ack, she almost vomits in her mouth. She wants to drag her tongue across the ground. He stands regarding her, mere meters separating them.

She points a threatening finger his direction. "Behave," she commands and then instantly regrets her choice of words. Loki laughs again, so hard, he's doubled over. Grumbling, Jay swings back up onto her frugga, very tempted to get his going she he has to run to catch up. She doesn't act on it though and sets off at a gallop, not sure what to do with this situation that just got much more complicated.

Miles later, he catches up to her in the foothills of the Ice Peaks, the sun starting to set. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and the look he gives her is heated. She swallows. Control, she needs to get control over the situation. Breathe, Jay-girl, you can do this.

Jaycee looks up to the Ice Peaks of Vanaheim towering over them. This is where the secret lies, somewhere deep in the caverns. The truth behind Hel, Sigyn and Tyr. She needs these answers, and quick. Clarappidium could already be under siege and here she is searching for mythical places in the wilderness of Vanaheim.

As if sensing her thoughts, Loki draws up alongside her and follows her gaze. "The Ice Peaks of Vanaheim," he says quietly, all joking gone. "I never thought I'd see them again."

Jay regards him out of the corner of her eye. "They are majestic, like something straight out of mythology," she murmurs.

Loki looks at her, fulling facing her even though she isn't looking at him. "What will you do once you know the truth? Do you expect it will change things?"

Jaycee sighs. "Whatever the truth is, we still have to ride hard to Clarappidium once we find it. We need to know why Hel and Tyr hate Vanaheim so much and if that can be used against them. The future of the Vanir people depends on it." She gives a little laugh. "That sounded so cliché."

Loki grins. "It's a good thing neither of us is."

Jaycee Strong grins back. No way in Hel. Pun intended.


End file.
